Beyond the Wide Wall: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 2)

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Beyond the Wide Wall: Humorous Fantasy (Epic Fallacy Book 2) Page 8

by Michael James Ploof


  “It’s all gone!” the dippy cried, tugging at his tangled locks and falling to his knees.

  Sir Eldrick marched out and grabbed him by the shirt, lifting him to his feet and shaking him. “What do you mean it is all gone?”

  “The ogre, she destroyed it all. The only thing left is fust in the dungeon tower, but she won’t let anyone in!”

  “Sir Eldrick!” came the commanding voice of Captain B. Ripps.

  Murland rushed over to Sir Eldrick’s side as the old dippy stopped before them.

  “All of you,” said the captain. “You must stop your friend the ogre before she destroys the tower!”

  Murland was confused. He hadn’t had his morning fix of fust, and his head wasn’t working right. How long had they been here? It seemed like an eternity. Sir Eldrick seemed to share his confusion, for he turned slowly, looking at each of them in turn.

  “I don’t feel good,” said Gibrig.

  “The ogre?” said Brannon, as though he had never heard of such a creature.

  “You idiots, get your heads straight,” said the captain in an angry tone none of them had ever heard from the old man. “You are supposed to be champions. So…go and champion. Stop the ogre and retrieve the fairy dust!”

  Sir Eldrick straightened as though he wore his fine suit of armor instead of a hemp robe. “Come on,” he said to the others.

  Murland, Gibrig, and Brannon followed Sir Eldrick and Captain Ripps. They made their way through the crowds of convulsing, begging, and sickly dippies, and Murland wondered what terrible affliction had beset them all. He scratched his chin and fumbled in his pocket where his treats usually were, but found nothing but crumbs. He fished these out, but they were immediately snatched away by a wild-eyed elf female with a rat’s nest of hair and dirty clothes.

  “What’s going on?” Gibrig asked, pushing through the crowds of angry dippies.

  “I don’t know, Gib,” said Murland. “Say, got any treats?”

  “No, none,” said Gibrig, turning out his pockets.

  “You two are a bunch of liars,” snapped Brannon, whose eyes were ringed with dark circles.

  “Look!” said the captain suddenly as he pointed.

  They all looked, and there, standing at the base of a crooked tower, was Willow. She was waving a torch and holding on to a long beam, trying to leverage a stone with all her might.

  “Get back! Back!” she screamed at the dippies.

  When one of the shaking dope fiends got too close, she kicked, punched, or screamed them away.

  “Sir Eldrick,” said the captain. “Willow stands between us and a mountain of fairy dust. What are you going to do about it?”

  The knight straightened and looked to the others, and Murland saw a deep shadow of doubt on his face.

  “Sir Eldrick!” cried Willow. “Murland, Gibrig, Brannon. Help me!”

  “Stop her!” yelled the captain.

  Just then, two dwarves and two men ran up to the captain.

  “The pipe weed shed is gone, and the kitchen pantries are empty. She destroyed it all!” said one of them.

  “Don’t just stand there, get into the tower. Get the fairy dust!” the captain cried, pointing at the tower with his crooked walking stick and hitting one of them in the shoulder with it.

  They all stumbled over themselves and took up their weapons, rounding on the ogre.

  “Help!” Willow cried, and Murland felt the urge to go to her side.

  “She is the enemy,” said the captain, stopping him with a hand to the chest.

  Murland shook his head, trying to clear it. He wanted nothing more than to eat some treats or smoke some sparkling pipe weed or snort a line of fust, but there was something else nagging at his mind, something he had forgotten.

  “We are the Champions of the Dragon!” said Willow, standing upon the pile of rubble and pushing on the long beam wedged between two large stones at the base of the leaning tower. “We are the Champions of the Dragon!”

  “Champions,” said Gibrig.

  “Of the Dragon,” said Brannon.

  They all frowned at each other and then looked to the captain.

  He watched his guards as they circled Willow, who was trying to force the stone beneath the beam.

  The four guards attacked all at once, coming at Willow from every direction with mace and sword and dagger. She fought them off valiantly, taking many cuts and bruises as she laid them all low.

  “You are the Champions of the Dragon!” she screamed at the companions, who stood stupidly, watching her fight off the dippies that had gained their courage, or had been driven by need for the fairy dust to attack.

  Murland tried to shake his head clear. He wanted nothing more than to feel the sweet burn of the fairy dust in his nose, or the harsh smoke of pipe weed in his lungs. His body yearned for it, and his blood begged. But a part of him saw through the need and the greed and remembered who he was. He saw Abra Tower rising before him. Heard the words of Bumblemoore. Saw the sneering face of Lance Lancer. He remembered Kazimir and Bjorn Tibiwild, the cyclopes of the Blight, and the Wide Wall…

  Finally, he remembered his magic, something that the treats, pipe weed, and dust had taken away from him.

  Sober anger rose in him, and the feeling must have been contagious, for the other companions looked to him knowingly. They all turned as one and rushed to Willow’s side.

  “It’s about time you all come to your wits!” said Willow, overjoyed. “Now help me PUSH!”

  Together they leaned on the thick beam she was struggling to move. As the dippies surrounding them slowly closed in, the companions finally forced the stone wedged beneath the tower aside. They fell back, glancing up at the tower apprehensively.

  The dippies fell silent, and all eyes watched the leaning tower. It creaked and swayed lazily, at first looking like it might fall over, but then it settled once again.

  “Get them!” the captain cried, but the dippies and the companions were watching the backpack circling above the tower

  It spread its wings and glided down to the top of the tower and landed.

  Everyone held a collective breath.

  The tower creaked, and at first it didn’t move. But then something gave way on the other side of the foundation. There was a groan of stone on wood, a protest of metal, and the tower began to fall.

  Willow gave a cheer as the leaning tower fell hard against the fairy dungeon, caving in the north side and buckling the tower right at the center. Dippies ran in every direction as the two towers came crashing down, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and debris that covered them all.

  “We’ve got to get out of here!” Willow told them all through the dust. “Come on, to the stables.”

  They followed her away from the smoke by way of the broken and rubble-filled back streets. The captain was screaming orders for the dippies to find the traitors. Murland spied the crowds of frantic dippies through the side alleys and saw that indeed they were tearing the place apart. However, they weren’t looking for the companions, but rather the precious treats.

  Murland wanted to join them, and he found himself checking his pockets again and again. His stomach hurt and his head throbbed. The feeling of emptiness in his gut was overpowering, and he fell many times.

  They all seemed to be feeling the same way, but Willow helped them along, even carrying Brannon at one point when he threw up and passed out.

  “Just a little farther, come on!” Willow urged them on.

  “You go ahead,” said Sir Eldrick, stopping beside an abandoned building to catch his breath. “I’ll catch up. There is something that I must retrieve.”

  “I’m not letting you go looking for treats. You will never return,” said Willow.

  “I’ll catch up, like I said,” Sir Eldrick told her. He was mumbling the words and drooling, and his eyes were wide and bloodshot.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” said Willow, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him along with her. “Don’t you two even
think about it,” she warned Murland and Gibrig.

  Just then, three rainbow bears rounded a building in front of them, blocking their path. The bears looked to the companions with those big round innocent eyes, but then suddenly, hideously, their faces changed. Long fangs replaced their flat molars, wicked claws grew out from their stubby nails, and their bodies convulsed, bulging and protruding, until they stood twice as tall as they had been. One roared, and it was not the sing-song coo that had at one time been so endearing, but rather, what came out was the blood-thirsty challenge of a predator.

  Willow got in front of the companions and stomped on the ground with her big wide feet. She gave a roar of her own while she slapped her knees and elbows and punched herself in the chest like a gorilla.

  The bears were not impressed, and as one they charged.

  Willow grabbed a long beam from the decrepit building to her right and swung hard, catching the first bear in the head and sending it tumbling into a building across the street. Bringing the beam back around, Willow hit the next in the shoulder, and the power of her swing sent it flying through the air as well. She tried to swing at the third bear, but he was already upon her. She abandoned the beam and ducked low, coming up hard with a shoulder into the bear’s chest. Sharp claws slashed her arm, but she ignored the pain as she thrust into the beast, sending him back many feet. The bear went to all fours and leapt at Willow, who caught it and slammed it down on the street, cracking cobblestone. Another bear leapt onto her back as she wrestled with the one she had pinned down. The bear on her back bit into her shoulder, teeth sinking deep into her flesh. But then the creature went limp, and turning, Willow saw Sir Eldrick standing over the bear with a large rock in his hand.

  “’Bout time you got your head out of the clouds,” she said, and knocked out the bear that she had slammed to the ground. “Come on, more will be coming.”

  They reached the stables, and Willow helped everyone onto their mounts. Murland wondered then where his winged backpack was, and he began to go out looking for it. He thought that maybe he could even try to find some treats as well. He knew that he would feel better if he could only find some. All he needed was a little fix and then they could leave.

  “Where you going?” Willow asked, but rather than wait for his reply, she just grabbed him by the belt and the collar and tossed him over the back of her horse.

  As they left the city by way of the northern ridge, Murland saw that many parts of it were burning, and the crowd of angry dippies and bears were tearing it apart.

  Chapter 11

  Precious Cargo

  The Iron Fist sailed across the endless blue waters for a week and a half before reaching the rocky coast of the Northern Barrens. After some negotiating, Caressa and Captain McArgh had come to a mutually beneficial agreement. The captain agreed to free the others and bring them all as far west as she could, and in return Caressa would help her to become the pirate queen of the Golden Coast.

  Valkimir had convinced the others that there was no way they would be able to catch up to the champions in the wilds beyond the Wide Wall. Rather, he said, they would have to get ahead of them and hope to intercept them before they reached Bad Mountain.

  Captain McArgh said that she would bring them as far as the Northern Barrens. For she knew the western coastline, and said that it was a thousand miles of steep cliffs and jagged coast.

  “It’ll be one hell of a daring landing,” she had said. “But there are places in the gulf west of the barrens where a boat might slip in.”

  They sailed west with the coast off the port side of the ship for the better part of the day. The coast was violent, with great spires of stone sticking up out of the water like the lances of fallen knights lost to the dark sea. Waves crashed heavily against the spires and steep cliff side, sending ocean spray shooting high in the air. The steady pounding was like a passing thunderstorm, and the captain fought to not get pulled in by the tumultuous seas.

  The weather had been fair during their journey, but the wind had picked up over the last two days, and now the ocean swelled angrily.

  “Ships spotted, Captain! We’re being followed,” one of the lookouts yelled down from the crow’s nest.

  Caressa followed Valkimir as he ran to the stern. Hagus followed close behind with Dingleberry flying beside him. Wendel came jittering after them, the wind through his ribs creating a haunting, mournful song.

  “What can ye see with yer elf eyes?” Hagus asked, beard blowing in the wind.

  “Not much more than you,” said Valkimir.

  “Not much…I be half blind!”

  “I see it,” said Caressa. “There.” She pointed north.

  “Another ship to the west,” called another lookout.

  “Alright, you bunch of no-good tramps!” said the captain from the rail, looking down on her crew. “Every woman to battle positions.”

  “Who is it?” Caressa asked as the group walked up the stairs to the poop deck and joined McArgh.

  The captain glanced at Valkimir and Hagus and spit on the deck. “Pirate men. They think they got us right where they want us. Which is just where we want ‘em.”

  “There be three ships to our one. How that be havin’ ‘em right where we be wantin’ ‘em?” said Hagus.

  “Watch and learn, dwarf,” said the captain.

  The Iron Fist sailed into the open water north of the coast as the three ships bore down on them, circling from the east, west, and north. When they got in cannon range, the crew waited eagerly for the captain’s orders.

  “Hold steady, girls,” she said, spying through a long glass at the ship to the north. “Aye, they be pirates alright. The three ships be the Rager, King Therod’s Revenge, and the Wraith. I know their captains.”

  “Then they will not attack?” said Caressa.

  “Of course they’ll attack. They must have somehow heard of my esteemed prisoners. The lot of filthy bastards think they can just take whatever they want.”

  “You really hate seamen, don’t you?” said Wendel.

  McArgh laughed, and Wendel obliviously looked to the others.

  “What’d I say?”

  Hagus patted him on the back and chuckled. “It probably be best if ye just don’t speak.”

  “Fly the parlay flag!” McArgh yelled to a woman in one of the crow’s nests.

  “What should we do?” Caressa asked.

  “You get your pretty ass down below,” said Mc Argh, giving the princess’s backside a slap.

  “If you intend to fight, then you will need my help,” said Valkimir.

  “Is that so?” said the captain, cocking her brow and looking him up and down. “Why’s that? You don’t think a ship full of females can handle their own?”

  “That is not what I meant. I would offer my assistance to you, whether you and your crew were men or not. I am a renowned knight of Halala. I will not hide below deck like a coward.”

  “Wait a minute now,” said Caressa, shouldering between the two. “Why should I hide? I might be a woman, but I can fight as well as any of you. I have been trained for years by some of the best—”

  “You may be an able fighter,” said McArgh. “But you are also a very valuable princess. I will not see you come to harm.”

  “I insist,” said the princess, unsheathing her sword.

  The crew tensed, but McArgh raised a staying hand and grinned. “She wants to fight, fine, we’ll let her fight.” She nodded at Caressa with respect, and went about barking orders at the others.

  “She is right, you know,” said Valkimir. “You are too important to be fighting common pirates.”

  “I have heard your arguments, and I have made my decision. Would you continue to press the subject if I were a man?”

  Valkimir seemed not to know what to say to that, and so he let it go.

  “Well, I for one am going below,” said Wendel, turning on his heel and heading toward the stairs.

  “Oh, no ye ain’t,” said Hagus, grabbing a
hold of the shock of hair atop Wendel’s skull and yanking him back. He stuck a mace in Wendel’s quivering, skeletal hands and slapped him in the jawbone, which made the skeleton’s head spin. “Ye already be dead. What in the hells ye got to fear anyhow?”

  “Hmm, let’s see,” said Wendel, tapping his chin in thought. “There’s torture, fire, explosions, decapitation, drowning, hanging—”

  “Yah, yah,” said the dwarf, adjusting his eye patch and retrieving the shovel strapped to his back. “Well ye best be gettin’ over it. This here be war.”

  “You have known war?” said Valkimir as they all watched the surrounding pirate ships converge.

  “Aye, served with the third battalion under General Skullthumper. Marched on the Silver Mountains with the late King Bonesteel during the attempted reclamation some twenty-odd years ago. Is how I got this,” he said, flipping up his eye patch.

  Wendel gagged when he looked upon Hagus’s empty socket, and Dingleberry turned away with a squeak. But Valkimir nodded.

  “I am honored to fight beside you,” he said stoically.

  “Aye.”

  “You two done making out?” said Wendel, animatedly pointing at the approaching vessels. “They’re going to attack at any minute.”

  “No, they aren’t,” said Caressa, looking out over the rail. “McArgh has indicated that she demands a parlay.”

  “What’s that?” Dingleberry asked, coming to land on Wendel’s boney shoulder.

  “It is when a captured pirate asks to be brought to speak before the enemy captain. It is almost always honored. It is one of the few things among pirates that is.”

  “So, what is she going to ask them?” Wendel asked.

  “Who’s to say. But McArgh is clever. I believe that she will figure out a way to get an upper hand.”

  “One of us must be present when she speaks to the others,” said Valkimir. “If only to ensure that our best interests are protected.”

  “I agree,” said the princess. “Go and tell her that I insist that you be allowed to join her.”

  “As you wish, Princess.”

 

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