Beyond the Wide Wall

by Ploof, Michael James

  “Say, Most High Wizard—”

  “No, you cannot have a toke. Get your list together. I don’t have all day, you know.”

  They all wrote down the things they had left behind. Then they handed the papers and a hair each to Kazimir. He put them in a small cotton pouch and tied it tightly before aiming his wand at the fire and turning it blue and raging. Everyone backed away slowly, and Murland watched intently, trying to memorize every nuance.

  “Caelum et terra et temporis spatio, ad dominos vestros nunc,” said Kazimir with the authority of a king. He put his right hand in the flames, but to everyone’s surprise, his hand did not burn. The pouch, however, glowed bright blue, and with his left hand, Kazimir aimed the wand at the ground beside the fire, bellowing, “Vocat te. Revertere ad dominos vestros!”

  There was a brilliant flash of light and a bang, followed by a sucking sound. When everyone could look again, they found their lost supplies sitting in a pile.

  “Wow!” Willow said with a giddy laugh.

  “Kazimir, you are simply the best!” said Brannon.

  “I bet you say that to all the guys,” said Kazimir, slowly lowering himself to the stump as the fire died down and returned to its normal color.

  They all rushed to the pile, but Kazimir put up a staying hand. “Wait,” he said.

  Murland felt the magic of the command halt his body. Though it was only a small force, still, it was impressive, for the wizard hadn’t even used the language of magic.

  “Ego vocabo in pulvere abscondit in fairy,” he said, pointing his wand at the pile of luggage and hitting it with a small green spell.

  The bags, sheathed weapons, and armor floated into the air. The bags opened and spilled their contents. Seven small sacks and three clear bags of fairy dust floated out, followed by a small cake sprinkled with the dust, four pipes, and a long sugar stick glinting like mineral-rich stone. The paraphernalia floated to Kazimir, who held open a shallow sack that shouldn’t have held it all. Nevertheless, the sack took it all and tied itself once everything was inside. Kazimir stashed the sack in his robes, and no bulge showed beneath them.

  “Go ahead, make yourselves presentable,” said Kazimir. “You look like you’re headed to Woodstock for queen’s sake.”

  “Woodstock?” said Willow, confused. “Where is that?”

  “Never mind,” said Kazimir, puffing on his pipe. “There is a small brook to the north, a few hundred feet from here. You will find it quite warm, and the ferns that grow there are fragrant. Get yourselves put back together and make it snappy. I expect to see five champions here by midday.”

  They did as he instructed, bathing in the brook and putting on their regular clothes and armor. Sir Eldrick trimmed his beard and allowed Brannon to cut his shaggy hair to a short, flat crop. Brannon washed his hair repeatedly and lathered lotions on himself, even offering some to the others, but only Gibrig took the fragrant offerings. Murland felt some strength return to him once he had bathed, and his head had cleared considerably. As they returned to camp, he found that his stomach suddenly ached for real food, and his mouth watered at the thought.

  “Ah, there are the champions that I know!” said Kazimir.

  “Any chance you could whoosh us some food?” Willow asked. “The dippies ate all our supplies.”

  “Hmm,” said Kazimir, stroking his beard in thought. “I find myself hungry as well. Very well, let’s see…”

  ***

  Far to the east, beyond the Wide Wall and King’s Crossing, on the highest balcony in the highest tower of Roddington Castle, King Nimrod raised his glass to the dignitaries of Icebite Island. He stood at the head of a long table; seven of his advisors and generals sat to the right, and to the left, the five Icebithian barbarians scowled at him, knotted muscles bulging beneath animal hides, hard eyes holding him in quiet contempt.

  After the mysterious disappearance of his last dinner table during peace negotiations, King Nimrod had scrambled to avoid war, and had finally convinced the barbarians that it had not been his doing. They agreed to return and seal the peace treaty with the ritual meal, one that lay spread across the table and steaming.

  King Nimrod raised his chin and his glass and looked to Ky’Klon, the chiefson of Icebite. “Ky’Klon, son of Ky’Mon, slayer of the sea monster Greezan, I humbly offer this feast from my lands. Let it be a symbol of my commitment to our unity, and may it nourish the bond between our people.”

  Ky’Klon nodded and raised his own glass.

  “Mine father, chief of Icebite, accepts the offeri—”

  Suddenly, the table and chairs and all that came with it disappeared, sending the barbarians crashing to the floor.

  King Nimrod gawked at the space where the table had been and said, “You have got to be shitting me!”

  He looked to his general of war and saw fear in the man’s eyes. Ky’Klon suddenly leapt to his feet and unsheathed a massive longsword. As the guards and barbarians began to battle, King Nimrod shook his head in disbelief, staring where the table had been.

  ***

  A table loaded with food and wine suddenly appeared beside the fire, and the companions gave a cheer. Kazimir laughed to himself and took a seat at the head of the table. He took a turkey leg off the plate and dug in hungrily.

  “Eat up, my champions, for the road is long and full of danger.”

  Murland and the others stuffed themselves with turkey, fish, fresh vegetables, bread, and cheese. A cask of wine went around as well, and under the watchful eyes of the Most High Wizard, Sir Eldrick graciously declined, deciding on water instead.

  The feast lasted through the afternoon and into the night, with everyone trying to eat or stash away as much as possible before Willow ate it all.

  “I tell you, Kazimir, you really know how to throw a party,” said the ogre merrily. “Thanks for whooshing all this food to us. But I can’t help but keep wondering…”

  “If you ask me one more time why I can’t whoosh you to Bad Mountain, I’ll turn you into a toad,” said Kazimir.

  Willow let it go, and Kazimir’s words made Murland think twice about asking him for a bit of wizard leaf.

  “Now that your bellies are full and your minds are set right, you need to start thinking of the road ahead. Soon you will have a choice to make, will you travel north through the Swamp of Doom, or south?”

  “Which way would you go, Great Kazimir?” asked Gibrig.

  “Both roads are wrought with danger, and only a madman would travel through either of those places. I am no madman, my oversized dwarf.”

  “Surely you have some advice,” said Brannon.

  “Advice? Hah! I give you back your things, feed you dinner, and you want advice on top of it. Alright then, here is a bit of advice that you can take with you for the rest of your days: figure it out!”

  Brannon bowed his head like a chastised dog.

  “You know…” said Gibrig, looking from a sullen Brannon to the smoking wizard. “Sometimes you’re not nice. Not nice at all.”

  “No, I am not, and neither is the world,” said Kazimir. Still, he furled his brow and glanced at Brannon. “Believe me, elf prince, that is the best advice you will ever hear. But alas, you have all done well together. Nigh on two fortnights ago you were all strangers to each other, and look, you have made it to the Wide Wall and beyond. You have done well, and you should rejoice.”

  “That means a lot coming from you, Most High One,” said Murland.

  “Indeed,” said Kazimir. “Now get some sleep, for it is likely the last good sleep you will know for a long time.”

  Chapter 15

  Out of the woods

  Sir Eldrick awoke to Kazimir shaking him gently.

  “Come with me,” said the wizard, and turned toward the woods.

  Sir Eldrick blearily rose from his bed roll and followed the wizard into the dark of the forest. Kazimir walked for many silent minutes before stopping beside a large redwood and facing the knight.

  He stud
ied Sir Eldrick for a moment and nodded to himself. “You have grown to love them,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “What?” said Sir Eldrick.

  “Do I have to remind you of the importance of your mission?”

  “I don’t know what you’re ta—”

  “It is hard to lie to a wizard, and it is impossible to lie to me. I see your heart, and I know your mind. They have grown on you, that much is clear. And Brannon’s dreams are full of guilt. Can I depend on you both, or should I simply wipe your minds and send you on your way?”

  “I am still dedicated to the task,” said Sir Eldrick, but searching his heart and mind he realized that indeed, he wasn’t quite sure.

  “It is commendable that you have grown to love them. You are a valiant man, but one who knows which way the wind blows,” said Kazimir, in a fatherly sort of way. “I too feel the tug of guilt, and surely Brannon’s heart is warming to them. But we cannot forget the importance of their sacrifice. They should not be pitied, for they will save all of Fallacetine from the death that is Drak’Noir.”

  “I know, Most High One, I know,” said Sir Eldrick, biting his tongue and not telling the wizard that he thought they might have a real chance at beating the dragon. Look what we have done, he wanted to say. Look what we have accomplished. But he said none of it.

  “Your heart is heavy, that is good. It means that you are still a good man. But alas, the fools must be brought before the dragon, or the world will burn.”

  “I understand.”

  “I hope that you do.”

  Kazimir and Sir Eldrick woke the group long before the sun had crested the horizon. They ate a quick breakfast and headed out, their bags full of leftovers and their spirits high.

  The day proved to be a bright one, and warmer than any they had yet experienced in the strange forest. As they ventured through the crowd of mammoth trees, Kazimir told them about the different creatures that could be found here, including unicorns, though rare, and a race of tree folk called uproots, who were said to be the original patriarchs and matriarchs of the forests of the world.

  “Yes,” said Murland excitedly. “I believe we met one of the tree folk that you speak of. His name was Rootbeard.”

  “Hmm, Rootbeard,” said Kazimir as he rode his black unicorn. “Yes, I believe that I have met him. Nice enough fellow as far as uproots go. Have I told you of the rainbow bears? Strange lot they are. You would be wise to avoid them.”

  “I’m afraid we have met them,” said Sir Eldrick, sitting high upon his horse. “As I said, they lured us to the City of the Dead.”

  “Ah, yes, now I remember,” said Kazimir. “They have a love for fairy dust as well. It is said that their appetite for the stuff is what has changed them from regular brown bears into the colorful ones you met. It figures that Captain Ripps would be using them.”

  “What do you know of the captain?” Sir Eldrick asked.

  “Well, I know everything, of course,” said Kazimir, but he didn’t elaborate.

  The forest became less thick as they ventured west, and eventually it gave way altogether for a marshy bog full of dead gray trees that had lost their leaves ages ago. Kazimir stopped on a knoll overlooking the marsh and foggy swamp beyond.

  “Alas, I have led you through the forest, and now you must choose your path,” said Kazimir, pointing. “This swamp runs west for a hundred miles. If you go through the northern swamp, you will find higher ground more easily, and though that way will be easier to traverse, you will run into many dangerous creatures. Through the southern swamp, you will be up to your ankles in mud half the time, but there are far fewer dangers. Either way will lead you to the Long Sand. I must leave you now, for a wizard has much to do in a world of fools, and not enough time to do it.”

  “When will we see you again?” asked Gibrig.

  “Probably,” said Sir Eldrick with a grin, “when we least expect and most need him.”

  Everyone laughed weakly.

  “Indeed,” said Kazimir. “You will not like what I say next, but it is for the best. Whether you choose north or south, neither is a place for your mounts. I am afraid that you must go forth without them.”

  “What?” said Brannon.

  “I will whoosh them all to the Wide Wall. Believe me. If you do not do this, I see a terrible fate for them all.”

  Sir Eldrick glanced around, nodded, and dismounted.

  Murland and the others did the same, and began shouldering what supplies they could easily carry.

  When they were done, Kazimir whooshed the mounts away.

  He turned his unicorn around and glanced back at them one last time. “Try not to get yourselves killed, for Drak’Noir is stirring, and time is of the essence!” With that he spurred his unicorn forward and soon disappeared into the dark forest with a whoosh.

  “And there he goes,” said Brannon mirthlessly.

  “Sure was nice to see him again,” said Gibrig.

  “Yes, well, he is gone, and here we are,” said Sir Eldrick, looking forward. “What will it be, north or south?”

  “I’m happy with either direction,” said Willow. “If there is one thing I know, its swamps.”

  “It figures we have to walk through a stinking swamp next,” said Brannon. “We just got clean, and now we have to traverse this godless bog.”

  “Well, I say we go north,” said Sir Eldrick. “Kazimir said that way would be easier to traverse, which means we get out sooner.”

  “What about the giant creatures he mentioned?” said Gibrig.

  “Drak’Noir is a giant creature, and we are heading to face her,” said Sir Eldrick. “Consider it practice.”

  “Oh, boy,” said Gibrig nervously.

  “I guess the northern way sounds better,” said Murland with a shrug of his boney shoulders. “If it means we don’t have to trudge through so much mud and mire. I mean, where are we supposed to sleep if we go south, in the muck?”

  “That is actually quite nice,” said Willow. “And don’t forget, the southern way might be messier, but this is a swamp, we’re going to get dirty one way or the other.”

  “Brannon, Gibrig, what say you?” said Sir Eldrick.

  “In that case, I would rather walk through mud in the south than face the creatures of the north,” said Brannon.

  Gibrig nodded agreement.

  “Well then,” said Sir Eldrick, looking to Willow. “You have said that you do not care, but it seems that you are the tie breaker.”

  “Hmm,” said Willow, tapping her tusk and thoroughly enjoying the attention. “I guess that when it comes down to it, I’d rather go north. Sounds more fun.”

  “FUN?” said Brannon, beside himself.

  “The group has spoken. North it is!” said Sir Eldrick, and he headed that way.

  Brannon gave a sigh, and Gibrig looked at him sympathetically. They fell behind the others, and Brannon glanced over at him pensively. “I just got the stink of dippies out of my hair, and now I have to travel through a hundred-mile swamp. What did we ever do to deserve this?”

  “I hear you,” said Gibrig. “But I guess the vote can’t always go our way.”

  “The vote has never gone my way,” said Brannon haughtily.

  “Sorry.”

  The wetlands went on for five miles before slowly turning into a steaming bog of green muck teeming with bugs. Twisted moss-covered willow trees replaced the dead ones, their many finger-like roots digging into the quagmire, and their canopies drooping to the still waters. Mist hung low, giving the place an eerie feeling, but to Willow, it was like home.

  “I tell you, my friends won’t believe that I got to see this swamp,” she said excitedly as she tromped through the deep mud.

  “I hate you,” Brannon mumbled as he pulled his mud-stained boot out of the muck with a thick sucking sound.

  “A hundred miles of this?” said Murland, swatting at the swarm of black flies and very much sharing Brannon’s sentiment. “What do these flies eat when they’re no
t eating wizards?”

  “I believe that they like the taste of hobbits,” said Willow.

  “What in the world is a hobbit?”

  “It’s a long story,” said Willow. “My father tells it best.”

  “Perhaps we should reconsider,” said Brannon. “The south cannot be as horrible as this.”

  “Quit your bellyaching,” said Willow, seeming to not notice the bugs or mind at all the nearly knee-deep muck. “Look there, some high ground. Smell that moss? That is deep rooted. Come on, follow me.”

  She led them to the high ground, which was covered with soft green moss, as she had predicted.

  “Here, rub this on your necks,” she said, reaching into the hollow of a knotted tree and producing a handful of yellow-green sap, which resembled snot. “The bugs hate it.”

  The companions all applied the sap desperately, and indeed, it deterred the bugs, though Murland agreed it smelled, as Brannon said, “like the crack of a troll’s ass.”

  Willow led them farther into the foggy swamp, talking nonstop and telling them of all the food that could be found there. She stuck tadpoles, lizards, and small frogs with a stick, and munched on them leisurely as she talked.

  “Where are all the giant creatures everyone talks about?” Murland asked as he took up the rear, hovering just above the ground with Packy.

  “Not sure, can’t wait to see them though,” said Willow.

  “As we go deeper, I imagine the swamp will reveal itself. Stay on guard,” said Sir Eldrick.

  Chapter 16

  The Swamp of Doom

  Willow led them through the mist-laden bog northwest of the forest. The plants grew tall and thick here, as did the dragonflies that zipped back and forth, getting a good look at the companions with their hundreds of eyes. Some dragonflies were the size of eagles, but Willow just swatted them away with her fat club and trudged on unconcerned. Rattail trees laden with old man’s beard were clumped together by the dozens like little islands. The murky green water bubbled in places, giving off an odor that nearly made Murland puke when he got too close. The sun was a hazy ball of white in a sky heavy with fog and a thick blanket of dull clouds. It felt as though it might rain at any minute, but the waters never came.