“Stay behind me.” said Bobo, “If you value your life.” Barf shivered again as they crept onwards through the bushes in the darkness, the wall of the tower itself drawing nearer and nearer. Suddenly Bobo held his hand up to halt and they crouched down at the base of the tower, peering into the darkness to try and see what was before them. From the bushes nearby rose a low rumble, almost like that of a shaking of the ground, or the slide of rock upon rock. Bobo removed what looked like a long thin copper tube from within his red and green checkered jacket and held it in front of him, putting it to his lips. In the darkness, two enormous yellow eyes suddenly appeared before them. Behind those eyes, other sparks of yellow fire glinted in the darkness.
“Lions.” said Barf, not moving at all, waiting for the leap and the roar and inevitable death. “Five in sight, maybe more behind. They will charge in an instant!” hissed Barf yet Bobo did not move at all.
“Be silent!” he hissed, and slowly he rose to stand, the tube before him. Barf crouched still, waiting for the lunge to come, the darkness filled with the huge bodies and powerful jaws of the deadly beasts as Bobo lifted the tube to his mouth and blew powerfully, a thin stream of yellow powder shooting from the tube into the darkness.
“Atchoo!” came a growl from the darkness, followed by many other similar sounds, some deeper than others, some more outraged, yet it did not last long. Within seconds it was over and silence fell about the inner garden once again. Barf noticed with relief that the yellow eyes had disappeared.
“Crump, what have you done!” hissed Barf and Bobo held up his hand to silence him.
“You will need this.” said Bobo, passing Barf a small round object which when Barf examined it turned out to be a small red false clown nose.
“I am not wearing this!” said Barf.
“It will protect you from the dust.” explained Bobo. “If you do not wear it you will die.” Barf sighed wearily and placed the red nose over his own, securing it with a set of ties that ran to the back of his head. From the scabbard at his side, he could hear the sound of muffled laughter.
“What by the Dods was in dat powder?” asked Barf and Bobo tapped his nose as they both moved forward, examining the stone-cold corpses of the six huge vicious looking beasts.
“Sneezing powder of the strongest kind from the workshops of the master mirth makers of Old Foon. Long did I travel to secure their formula. By sea around the Old Spice Islands and then around the tempestuous seas of Three Bucket Bay, The Popcorn Isles and then further east past Disneyia and the Cape of the Mouse and onto Foon itself.” he paused for a second, examining the lions and then turning to stare at the tower that rose up above them. “Cost a fortune in travel expenses I will say. Though I was fortunate enough to save a few jots on a return passage around the Cape of the Mouse. Cut a small piece of paper off an offer on a parchment that came through the door. Quite lucky really.”
“They neezed noo death?” asked Barf incredulously.
“They did indeed.” said Bobo. “The configuration of the powder is exceptional. Were you not wearing that nose you would be dead already.”
“When can I nake deh node off?” asked Barf and Bobo rolled his eyes.
“Soon. Soon.” he said, dropping the coil of rope to his feet along with the bucket. Just how he had managed to creep so stealthily through the garden while carrying them Barf had no idea.
Why dan’t we dust kill de doldiers in de keep with it?” asked Barf and Bobo paused for a moment, translating.
“We cannot use it against anyone because I have no more.” said Bobo. “The cost of what I did have was exceptional. Had I paid the asking price for it and not just stolen it then I would be a pauper standing before you now.”
“Ah. Expendith.” said Barf.
“Bless you.” said Bobo, looking up at the balcony one hundred and fifty feet above their heads. It seemed even higher than ever now that they were stood below it. “Now, take heed and stand back for the next part of our plan is at hand.” He moved away from the tower, uncoiling the rope as he did so. Barf was not surprised to see a small hook almost like that of a barbed harpoon attached to the end of the knotted rope.
Bobo began to swing the rope in a circular motion about his head, the hook whistling through the air as he gathered momentum until finally with his powerful arms he grunted loudly and the hook with the rope attached to it went sailing upwards into the heavens. It rose higher and higher until it reached the balcony, but at the last second the hook bounced against the stone of the tower and fell away from it, the tall thief cursing as it fell back down into darkness away to their right.
“Oof!” came a loud cry from where it had landed and Barf and Bobo raced across to find a black-clad man dead in the bushes, the hook stuck terribly inconveniently in his head.
“Do’s dis?’ asked Barf, looking at Bobo and catching him smirking for a fraction of a second for no apparent reason.
“I did not say that we would be the only thieves to try to steal the Anas Platyrhynchos’s heart from the priest this night.” said Bobo, “In fact, it is quite a popular pursuit. Just not one that ever seems to conclude to the thief’s satisfaction. No doubt our endeavours shall prove to be much more successful.”
“Well leds ope do.” said Barf as Bobo removed the hook from the corpse and returning to his previous position began to spin the rope and hook again. This time, he was lucky. The hook caught and tugging on the rope Bobo looked extremely pleased with himself.
“Luck shines on my second cast!” he said triumphantly he gripped the rope and crooking a knee about it and kicking off his long red clown shoes he began his ascent.
“No need to ask if a Crimerian can climb a rope I take it?” he asked.
“Id it will old by weight.” said Barf.
“Oh it will hold you for sure.” said Bobo as he began to climb more rapidly. “It will hold thrice my own weight. It is a rope wound from the hair of a dead woman taken from their graves at midnight and steeped in the heady unguents of the dark trees of Bongia.”
Barf looked at him suspiciously. Yet he had no choice. He grasped the rope and began to climb.
“No need to worry.” called Bobo from above. “Comes with a three-year guarantee too. The rope of choice it is said.”
“Dud dud.” said Barf and they continued to climb.
“Oh you can take the nose off now.” said Bobo
“Dud I not ad remoobed id defore?” asked Barf accusingly as there came the sound of something being tossed away to the ground behind him.
“More or less.” chuckled Bobo. “More or less.”
They continued to climb.
Up and up they went, silently, the torches and lit temples and taverns of the city spreading out further and further below them as they climbed, the stars above them now twinkling silently as if to mock them somehow.
Eventually, they reached the small balcony and reaching out with one hand Bobo pulled himself off the rope and onto the balcony. Barf followed him, Bobo reaching down to assist him as he swung out to climb over the small wall and onto the small semi-circular balcony at the top of the tower. Barf paused and looked about him.
The balcony was small yet it had a small parapet at its edge, though no more than three feet high. The balcony only extended on this side of the tower. Yet it was not the top of the building. Set into the cool white stone was a jewel studded door that was currently closed. Above them the tower continued no more than another ten feet, the stone unbroken by any other doors or windows.
At the edge of the parapet, Barf could see the small hook that had been attached to the rope that they had climbed. It had caught on the edge of the stone and had been crammed against a small niche in the rock that the rope had got stuck into. As he looked Bobo approached and with considerable effort detached the hook from the edge where it had caught and placing his small bucket at his feet, began pulling the rope up and coiling it at his feet.
“Wouldn’t do to be drawing any attention to oursel
ves now, would it?” he said and Barf nodded eagerly.
“Where did you put the bucket when you were climbing?” asked Barf, aware that he had not seen it as the clown had shinned up the rope above him. Bobo however just winked but did not reply.
The door that led into the tower was jewel studded, the gems of blue and green catching the starlight to almost give the impression that the door was encased in ice.
“There is a fortune of unspoken worth here, clown.” said Barf and Bobo nodded, his bright ginger wig fluttering in the breeze that blew coldly across the top of the balcony.
“Yes. Come now, though! If we can secure the heart, then I am sure there will be a multitude of other treasures that shall fall into our hands.”
They walked across the parapet and examined the jewel studded door, each of them straining their hearing for any noise from the other side. There was nothing.
“The real risks are with us now.” said Bobo, his voice all but a whisper. “We enter the serpent’s lair and we do not know where he lies hidden.”
They stood crouched by the door straining for any sound at all when the silence was broken by a dull thud from the edge of the parapet. Barf looked across to where Bobo had left his rope coiled and they crept back and looked out and below down the side of the tower. Barf was amazed to see that the noise he had heard was another hook lodging itself in the balcony upon which he was standing, and already he could see two dark shapes approaching up the side of the tower, holding on desperately, one below each other. As they watched in the moonlight the two figures drew closer until estimating them to be in hearing range Bobo cleared his throat.
“Excuse me.” said Bobo in his best aggrieved manner. The two men climbing the rope below them startled, the rope swaying alarmingly as they both looked up and saw Bobo’s ginger wig and large red false nose loom over the balcony above them in the moonlight. “I think you will find that there is a queue.”
“Sorry, mate.” said the nearest shape below them on the ladder. “Thought we were the only two thieves on the lookout for an extra gem or three this night.”
“Well you will have to wait ten minutes.” said Bobo. “I have a rather cunning plan with regards a small amount of explosives and a very sharp knife to attend to within first.”
“We see.” said the man dangling from the roof. “Fair do’s. We can hang on for say ten minutes so you can get sufficiently far ahead of us.”
“I should say so too.” said Bobo.
He turned back to face Barf and shook his head.
“It seems to me that the Anas Platyrhynchos tower is more than a little busy this evening.” he grimaced and swung his foot backwards, dislodging the hook from the parapet of the balcony. They both heard the sound of rapidly fading screams from below them than two thumps and finally, silence. “Still. Nothing that two stout fellows such as you and I cannot contend with.” He glanced over his shoulder and nodded towards the tower. “Come.” he said, “Let us enter into danger.”
Like stalking tigers, they crept to the door and with a dexterous turn of the door knob Bobo twisted the handle. Barf, kneeling behind him, saw it turn, and turn easily as if the door was in constant use or was carefully maintained. Slowly Bobo pushed the door and it opened easily to reveal a large round chamber. Yet it was not entirely small. The floor was tiled in what looked like marble, but the walls were studded with jewels of every colour and description, enticing them both to enter. The jewels glowed brightly, providing the rooms only visible source of light. Yet it sufficed. The chamber was well lit and spacious whilst not being over large. It seemed entirely empty of life. Barf tapped Bobo on the shoulder and the clown turned, grinning widely and gave the barbarian a white-gloved thumbs up.
“Before we cut off our last retreat.” said Bobo, “Go back to the parapet and check that there are no other fools on their way up, or that the guards from the first floor of the tower have not been alerted by the shall we say less than professional ministrations of our equally light-fingered brethren. If you see anyone moving or the alarm has been raised, then return and inform me. I shall await you in the chamber within.”
Barf felt his suspicions roused. There hardly seemed any reason to do as he asked, and he begin to wonder whether Bobo was taking him for a fool or not. Yet something within him made him obey. Everyone likes a clown, after all, he reasoned to himself. He turned away from the chamber as Bobo stepped inside, the door closing after him. Barf approached the parapet and looked down. There appeared to be no movement of any kind and listening carefully he could hear nothing at all. Satisfied that all was well he turned and faced the door just as there rose a loud strangled cry from within the chamber. Barf leapt towards the door but as he approached it flew open and Bobo stood framed in the doorway, clutching his throat.
Bobo swayed and his mouth opened but only a dry rattle crept from his lips. Clutching at the still open door for support the clown stumbled, lurched forward and fell to the ground, colliding with the small empty bucket that he had previously placed on the roof, which was sent skidding across the stone floor as the clown by accident kicked it. The door to the tower chamber closed behind him.
In the brief instant before the door had swung closed Barf had seen that the chamber was apparently just as empty as before and nothing followed Bobo out onto the roof. Nothing visible, anyway. Barf leaned across the man, turning him onto his back as the clown’s heels drummed on the roof, his entire body shaking. The man looked at Barf in bewilderment, his hands clawing at his throat as he gurgled loudly and suddenly stiffened. He jerked one last time and a small set of wind-up chattering teeth fell from his pocket and onto the stone roof, the teeth clattering together loudly as they wound down.
They clicked and clattered as the clown's arms fell suddenly to his side. He gave one last shudder and almost in synchronisation with the plastic teeth that now stopped moving, Bobo was dead.
Barf looked at the corpse carefully. He had the feeling that the man had died without knowing what had happened to him, such was the puzzled look on his face when he had stumbled back out of the room. In that empty chamber, within its glittering jeweled walls death had come to the prince of thieves as quickly and as mysteriously as he had dealt with the lions in the outer gardens of the tower far below.
Carefully Barf examined the man's body, looking for any puncture wounds or cuts; any signs of blood. Seeing nothing he turned the man over and saw that below his neck at the top of his shoulders where the clown jacket had sagged down a little, there were three small round wounds, which Barf thought looked as if three sharp nails had been driven into the clown’s flesh and then withdrawn. The edges of the wounds were black, a fetid and putrefied smell rising from them, tainting the sweet night’s air. Barf considered what could the cause of such wounds could be - after all, the room was empty. The only thing he could think of was poison darts, but if it had been them then the missiles would still be in the wounds. It did not make sense.
Barf rose from the floor and drawing his sword, approached the door.
“Wow.” said Humdinger, its voice loud and unsettling in the night air. “Looks like the clown bought it then. Someone take objection to his flower that squirts water trick then?”
“Quiet.” said Barf and with a tutting noise, the sword fell silent.
Barf reached the door and cautiously pushed it open, his sword held out before him. The chamber was as empty as before, the cold harsh lights rising from the jewels seeming brighter than before, yet he was sure this was purely his imagination. Now he was closer, his view previously having been impeded by the bulk of the clown stood in front of him, he examined the chamber beyond carefully.
In the centre of the ceiling, he noticed for the first time a design - an eight-sided pattern in the centre of which eight red gleaming gems glittered with a red flame unlike every other white gem inside the room that covered every wall. On the other side of the room was another door seemingly the same as the one where he now stood, that led no doubt furth
er into the tower to who knows where. Barf wondered if it was through that door Bobo’s assailant had come and having delivered its fatal blow, through which it retreated as well?
On the far side of the room sat three small wooden chests, their lids firmly closed. Barf advanced a few steps into the room, and behind him, the door slowly swung shut. Barf stealthily tip-toed towards the chests and rose the lids of each in turn. His heart nearly stopped at the sight of such wealth - the chests were overflowing with jewels and gold coins. He considered what the wealth of the Anas Platyrhynchos’s heart would be if this was the treasure he had seen in just the first room of the tower! Grinning, he closed each chest and looked about the room once again.
He stood waiting for any sign of movement at all, his sword held out before him.
“I hate it when this happens.” said Humdinger quietly; almost a whisper. “Always me leading the way.”
“Quiet.” said Barf, looking slowly about, moving warily into the centre of the room, every sinew and sense screaming to react should he detect even the slightest noise or sense of movement. Nevertheless, he nearly missed it when it did come.
There was a black flashing movement from above and Barf instinctively threw himself sideways as he saw out of the corner of his eyes a creature of nightmare swing past him chittering loudly, it's huge black shape and eight gleaming red eyes focused entirely on him. It swung past as he rolled past it, it's clashing of frothing fangs dripping evilly and Barf felt something drip onto his shoulder where the creature had lunged at him and missed, the evil-smelling wetness beginning immediately to burn his skin like liquid hellfire. Springing back and gaining his feet he saw the monstrous creature drop to the ground, descending to the floor on a thick strand of web. Barf cursed. They must have been stupid not to think that the top of the tower would be as well guarded as the bottom of it! Springing back now, his sword held high before him, he saw the creature settle its eight hairy legs onto the floor and with appalling speed turn on the floor and began to scuttle towards him, its eight red eyes focused on him, its fangs seeking him out eagerly.
Barf the Barbarian in The Tower of the Anas Platyrhynchos (The Chronicles of Barf the Barbarian Book 1) Page 3