Hero in a Halfling

by William Tyler Davis

  “If you’re so concerned,” Coe argued, “then why haven’t we seen any magic? I should have checked after those orcs. You’re a fraud. I’m sure of it now.”

  “He’s not,” Epik said, a bit unsure. “I’ve seen his magic.”

  “Illusions,” Todder said.

  “Tricks,” Wellspoken offered.

  “Go on then, Mister Wizard,” Coe prodded. “Prove your worth. Get us back into the city.”

  “I will not,” Gabby said sternly, “be chided into a display of my power by the likes of you!” But as he spoke a storm cloud grew out of nothing above them. Lightning struck so close to Collus that it pushed down into the dirt.

  Coe collected himself, jumping up from the ground and dusting himself off. Rotrick roared with laughter, but as he did so another clap of lightning came down, spooking even the ever steady dwarves.

  “This city has turned against magic,” Gabby said. “And if they see an outlaw wizard force his way to the castle… Well, let’s just say I don’t want things here to turn as they have in King’s Way.”

  Collus laughed heartily at this. “So, ruling for a thousand millennia as Dark Lord isn’t on your agenda?”

  The wizard shook his head. “When people live in fear, they hardly live at all.”

  “True words!” Wellspoken said. “Well spoken.”

  “I guess that’s fair,” Coe said. “But it doesn’t necessarily solve the problem at hand. I’d like to get home to my wife tonight.”

  “You have a wife?” Epik said—before he could stop himself. There was still a fire in the pit of his stomach that burned even looking at the ranger.

  “Aye, and four children,” Rotrick answered for him. Coe gave him a piercing stare.

  “Why else ya think he’s driven to drink each night?” Billy said. The other dwarves and Rotrick joined in laughing.

  Twilight waned, the setting sun turned the white clouds of the sky orange. Gabby’s little storm cloud hung over their heads, purple. They made a modest camp right there outside.

  Soon enough, it would be dark.

  Epik watched the Wall, as the men at arms stood there, almost impassive. Something stabbed at the back of his mind as he watched them there watching them, their eyes at head height.

  Human height.

  Epik stood. “I might be able to get us into the city.”

  Gabby smiled knowingly, scratching at the cheeks of his beard.

  “Just into the city?” Coe said. “I know you now, halfling. You’re not expecting us to storm the castle, aren’t you? I’m not exactly the storming the castle type. Especially when you’re involved. Your damn wizard is the reason we’re out here.”

  “Well,” Epik said, “if anyone is willing to help me save Myra—”

  But the cogs of the ranger’s brain were already turning. He looked at Gabby. “And you said Epiman should be king? The proper one.”

  Gabby nodded. Again, a smirk parted his lips.

  “Bet there’d be a fair amount of gold in that,” Rotrick said.

  “Aye,” the dwarves agreed.

  “Dammit,” Coe groused. “I guess we’ll help.”

  32

  The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  Brendan had never been in the banquet room before. It was apparent by his utter amazement, his eyes wide as he glanced around at the tapestries and banners, at the chandelier in the center of the room, the stained glass windows, and the mural on the ceiling, unfinished—murals, depicted the disposition of several past kings.

  “Where’d you stash her?” Nacer asked. The new king sat at the end of the long table, alone. There were servings of every food imaginable around his giant plate. He had scooped some of all of them into small circles on his plate, so small that none of them touched. The peas were a fork’s length away from the mashed potatoes, the potatoes a spoon’s length away from the roast beef, and so on, and so forth.

  “In the tower, sire,” Brendan said.

  “In the tower?” Nacer laughed through his nose. “What do you think this is, some fairy tale? Are we in some book?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Lock her in my bed chamber,” Nacer commanded.

  “Yes, your grace.”

  The new king thought a moment. “And this company,” he said. “With the wizard, did they put up any fight?”

  “No, your erm, majesty. They were rather cordial really. Didn’t leave though. I believe they set up camp just beyond the Wall for the night.”

  “Really? Nothing? Should they stir in the night, kill them.” Nacer found that he was thirsty. Not for water or wine… But for blood—side effects of being king, he supposed. ”In fact, please do kill them. In the morning, whenever you deem appropriate.”

  The cold kingly discern for death ran through Nacer’s body. How quickly men and women went from bishops and knights to pawns in his mind. How quickly life became no more than a game. He began to understand King Simmons’ thought processes.

  “Yes, your, erm… Highness?” Brendan said.

  “Please decide on one,” Nacer said coldly. “Your grace, your majesty—just pick one.”

  “But—“

  “Doesn’t matter which.”

  “Yes,” Brendan said, “your… um… Awesome-sauce.”

  “Not that one,” Nacer said.

  Brendan nodded. “And um, your highness,” he said. “Captain Snyder wondered should we move any of the Guard. There’s still sixty men at the palace gate, and thirty or so inside. We may could use them—“

  “No,” Nacer shook his head. “Just leave them.” He shooed the soldier away.

  Later, Sir Robert entered the room—the king’s silent guard. His assassin. “Come, sit,” he told the knight. He passed the man a plate and a goblet. This could be the start of a fruitful relationship. He didn’t like the man a few days ago, but they’d come to terms.

  “Have you found Mister Epiman?”

  Sir Robert shook his head.

  “And you’re back so soon?”

  Sir Robert nodded.

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.”

  Sir Robert shook his head.

  “Listen, do you ever speak? Or should I call you Silent Sir Robert? I need answers. Not this, whatever this is. I’ve let it go on too long.”

  Sir Robert shrugged.

  Nacer sighed very deeply. He let the silence grow to an uncomfortable state. Uncomfortable for him but perhaps not for Sir Robert.

  Finally, the knight cleared his throat.

  “I do prefer Silent Sir Bob,” the knight said. “Mister Epiman is in hiding. I even went down to Jersy and searched that rotten pub for him. A city of a million people, you can’t expect me to go door to door, now can you? I’ve placed a few men in strategic locations. One at that pub. He’ll turn up, eventually. I’m sure. It’s just a matter of being ready. If I were you, I’d ensure you have the Palace Guard loyally on your side before then. Double their pay or something. You were seen in the palace vault, perhaps a share of good will—a share of that gold—could go a long way.”

  “I wasn’t in there for gold,” Nacer sneered. At first, he was taken aback. How dare this man, this knight, tell him what to do. Still, he had a point. “Yes, maybe you’re right,” Nacer conceded. “Point taken.”

  Sir Silent Bob scooped several rolls onto his plate and left the room, leaving the new king there alone, thinking. He wondered how his new bride would take the news of her father’s death.

  He knew there was a long standing tradition of things like this. But there was also a long standing tradition of crazy queens, and perhaps the two were correlated in some way. In the silence, his mind parried over the events that had led to this day. How had all of it started? The end was so close in sight. Just the one final puzzle piece remained.

  The stars weren’t cooperating.

  Epik needed a starless, moonless, or maybe even foggy night. But the bastards shone brilliantly in the sky, along with the moon so bright it could eclipse the sun
. Epik was sure he would be seen. But Gabby had given him a few quick pointers.

  “Don’t worry about tip-toeing,” the wizard had said. “A halfling’s foot has built in sound dampening.” He had mentioned some made up word, evolving or evolution or something. Epik was keen to use it the next time he had a chance.

  Gabby had said the key was to stay in the shadows, to lurk there, and if he was noticed, Epik was to throw his voice a good distance away, allowing himself a chance of escape.

  This last part was difficult, but Epik got better with each try, throwing his voice first ten, then up twenty feet. How Gabby was so well versed in these techniques—techniques Epik knew his father had utilized—Epik wasn’t sure.

  Instead of heading in straight on to the gap in the Wall, Epik circled the wood then went for the wall from a good distance away from the men. He crept along it in shadow, just to the mouth of the opening. He hid behind crumbled stones as Brendan and his soldiers, and more importantly, the Palace Guard, loitered there.

  “Whatcha think of the new king?” one asked.

  “I’m, I’m not a big fan,” Brendan said. “I don’t believe I exactly align with his policies.”

  “Right that,” the other said. He was squat and stubby legged, with a frazzled look about him. “Erm, what policies do you mean, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Well,” Brendan said, “like the fact that we have to kill this lot in the morning.”

  “Oh.” The soldier stared out at the campfire. “Right. That.”

  “How is it you came to join the Watch?” Brendan asked.

  “The usual way.”

  “Stealing chickens?”

  “Oh no, not chickens. I’m a vegetarian,” he paused. “Stealing carrots.”

  Epik passed from stone to stone, until there was only a narrow expanse of open road between him and a hatched up cart in the street. He began to creep that direction. Then the soldier sneezed, sending the halfling scurrying back under the stone.

  “Believe I might be coming down with somethin’,” the soldier said. He sneezed again.

  “Well, you do get two days of sick leave a month,” Brendan said.

  Epik looked back at the two, panting as silent as he could manage.

  Then Brendan nodded casually; for a moment it seemed he’d put his eyes squarely on the halfling. “I had the tummy aches only this morning. Ran down to one of them new Farmacies. They wanted three silver for something called anti-back-terra.”

  “Three? That’s cobblestoned way robbery, it is.”

  “I know,” Brendan grimaced. “But it did taste like bubble gum.”

  “What’s bubble gum?”

  Brendan shrugged.

  On the opposite side of the opening, soldiers lounged behind the Wall or on the ramparts themselves. Epik was so close now. But this was the moment he had feared the most. He raced behind the cart. Once there, he found his bearing. Only two blocks away, from the Rotten Apple. So close but so far. The streets were all but empty. Only an odd smattering of soldiers stood between Epik and the bar. He had passed so many soldiers now, yet getting past these last few seemed all but impossible.

  “You there, boy!” Brendan yelled, but not so loud enough to alert all of the Guard. Epik froze in panic, but in no time Brendan had pulled him by the hood of his traveling cloak, burying his face inside it and obscuring it from view. “I told you boy, stop your spying.” Brendan looked around to all that were watching. “Lad here says he wants to be a soldier when he grows up.”

  The man that had made idle conversation with Brendan snorted out a laugh. “It ain’t too hard, lad. Just steal something, not yours.”

  Brendan tugged Epik down the street, in full view of many soldiers, but their eyes glazed over the two, now more interested in their own affairs. They continued toward the Rotten Apple then Brendan whispered, “Not sure if you were lucky or if I’m just this unlucky. My head will probably roll tomorrow with yours.” Epik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was the guard helping him?

  “Even if you make it to the castle, there are more than sixty men guarding it. I hope you have a good plan.” He stopped and threw Epik forward into the middle of the street, then yelled with a dramatic flair, “Make sure I don’t see you again!”

  Gerdy greeted him at the entrance of the pub. As expected, the Rotten Apple was as empty as last he’d seen it. Only a few of the usual sort were huddled there at the pub. One such man, in a dimly lit back corner, pretended not to notice the halfling’s arrival.

  “Did you save her?” Gerdy asked.

  “In a way,” Epik said. “One of those out of the frying pan scenarios.”

  “And into the fire?”

  “Right. She’s up at the castle, I think.”

  “And where are the others?” Jed said, coming around from the bar.

  “You haven’t heard? We were barred from the city.”

  “And yet, here you are,” Jed said. He eyed the bar. Many faces sunk down into their drinks. The man in the dimly lit corner didn’t have to, but he cowered anyway. “Let’s move this conversation to the back.”

  Snow stood in the kitchen with a wary expression on her face. Jed shut the curtain behind them. Epik explained. Jed nodded. Gerdy made noises of recognition. And Snow was as silent as ever.

  “She never said she was heir to anything.”

  “She wasn’t to know,” Jed said airily. “You two, you go and let the company in at the gate. There’s something here I need to take care of.”

  Gerdy shot him a quizzical look, but Jed was already rummaging inside the big oven, fire licking his hands and then his arms. He pulled a double-bladed axe from what seemed like nowhere—Had it always been hidden there behind the fire? He went to the curtain and peeked in at the bar. “There’s a man out here I need to have a word with.”

  Jed’s grip on the axe handle tightened.

  The street was as dark and quiet as when Epik had left it a short while before. Only now, several more Guard patrolled the expanse of open Wall. Epik wondered how long it’d take them to spot that the campfire was deserted. Perhaps they still had a little time.

  “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

  “Are you calling me ugly?” Gerdy said with a mock tone.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I ran down to one of those Farmacies. You wouldn’t believe what they charged.”

  “Three silver?”

  “How’d you know?”

  Epik shrugged off the question. “Never mind that,” he said. “I’m just wondering what bubblegum taste like.”

  “It tastes sort of pink if that makes sense.”

  It didn’t.

  They found the gate mechanism exactly as Todder had described, and amazingly there was no watchman there to dissuade them. The gate lifted quite easily once Epik asked for Gerdy to put her back into it.

  They sent Amber off to the Rotten Apple; then the company came together once more. Epik, Gerdy, the dwarves, the rangers, the elf, and the wizard, they huddled there by the gate, waiting for the quarterback to pick a play. First, they looked to the wizard, who nonchalantly began to scratch at his beard. Next, they eyed Collus, who at least had the decency to speak.

  “I expect someone’s got a plan,” he said.

  Gerdy bit her lip, thinking. But it was Epik’s voice that surprised them all.

  “I think we need a diversion,” he said. “There’s more than sixty men guarding the castle. I need you and the dwarves there.”

  “Stormin’ a castle,” Two-finger smiled, “can’t wait to add that to the resume.”

  “Aye, me too,” Billy said with a crooked grin.

  “You’re both idiots,” Coe said. “So what about the rest of you?”

  “K’nexes,” Epik said. “Do you think you can find Mister Epiman? I bet he’ll be in danger soon... If he’s not already.”

  The elf chewed on his cheek. “Perhaps.”

  “That leaves us.” Epik nodde
d to Gabby and Gerdy. “We’re going to sneak into the castle.”

  “Are we now?” the wizard said, lighthearted.

  “There’s a hidden entrance, where the children get their food stamps. I’ll take us there.”

  “And what if that’s guarded too?” Coe asked.

  “Then we have magic,” Epik said; he felt reassuringly in his back pocket. Gabby smirked.

  33

  Reaper Man

  To the halfling’s word, at least sixty men were guarding the castle entrance. At least, Todder thought, these weren’t his brothers in the Watch. These were the hardened men of the Palace Guard—a whole lot more formidable.

  For the Guard, it was the purple garments and plumed hats that were deceiving. When people walked by the silent, funny looking guardsmen, they might be enticed to take a picture. All the while not knowing, that in that camera frame with them waited a killer, ready to throat punch them or slash their gullet if they make one false move toward the castle.

  They, too, had removed their hats and changed their usual purple topcoats for the bronze breastplates of battle. But unlike the crew by the Wall, these men still stood in their standard pose, leaning against the castle wall with their heads cocked back.

  Todder watched the halfling and crew disappear down an alley and sighed heavily.

  “Do we have to, ya know, kill them?” he whispered, clutching the hilt of his sword. “They’re not exactly orcs now, are they?”

  “No, you’re right,” Coe said. “But they’re not dressed for a tea party, either.”

  Collus looked around, all eyes on him. “Dammit, he’s right though. These are our brethren. It’s not completely their fault they’re idiots. Make sure you don’t go for the kill. Minor wounds. Knock them out, if you can. Agreed?”

  The dwarves nodded.

  “I heard these men can fight.” Two-finger looked down at his hurt leg. “You think I’ll manage?”

  “I’ve heard fairy tales too,” Coe argued. “Doesn’t mean they’re true.”

  “Exactly,” Rotrick said. “We’ll just see how this goes. I’m going to try and fight them right-handed.”