Hilda - The Challenge

by Paul Kater

  William grinned. "You are good, lady. You are really good."

  "I know," she grinned. "Can you take those and the bottles, or do I have to shrink them?"

  "Hmmm..." William looked at the two scrolls and the four bottles. The servant had been overzealous. "Let me try something..." His wand appeared and a gleam came to his eyes.

  Hilda giggled.

  He magicked two large pockets in his cloak and made the bottles disappear in them. A simple magical field kept them from banging into each other. He then stuck the scrolls next to the bottles. "I think this will work."

  Hilda considered him. "Nice. It lacks elegance, but it gets the job done. Cool puppies, now let's go."

  They found their way out of the library and the castle. They exited at a different place than where they had come in, which confused even Hilda for a moment. Then she mumbled something in Latin and soon their brooms came dropping from above.

  "Being king is probably good, but being a witch is really better," she grinned as they mounted. "Ready to go?" She did not wait for an answer, but kicked off and lifted to the heavens, William close behind her.

  As they were heading home, William pulled his broom next to Hilda's. "Thank you, Hilda, for getting me there in that library, and sitting it out."

  "Oh, yeah, you know, I know that you mean well even if you do strange things and say funny things. I help you, you help me, and that way it gets easier for both of us, right?"

  "All too true. We're going to make this work." William felt good about the situation.

  "Yes, and you're making dinner and I am going to drink another glass of wine."

  William laughed and this time did not lose control of the broom. He was definitely improving.

  Days came and went. The couple was flying the rounds mostly together. Despite their efforts, there was no trace of Fidelma, which was not surprising to either of them. Hilda was a bit more in touch with her witchy colleagues and friends, while William took time off each day to read the Gurthreyn scrolls. He made notes, compared the information on the two scrolls (which was often contradicting) and after little over a week he had worked all through them.

  On the magical side he was not nearly as fast to progress. Hilda occasionally despaired as again he was not able to do some of the most simple and basic things. "Protection, William, protection! When will you understand that, when will you be able to protect yourself?"

  His mind however had been more occupied with Gurthreyn than protection. It was imperative though, that he get that bit under his belt also, so now he used as much time to work on that as he had done working on the scrolls.

  Hilda was talking to Baba Yaga over the crystal ball, while William was outside working on his skills. The more than occasional oompf's and thuds told her that he was not really making much progress.

  "I really worry about him in that respect, Babs," Hilda confessed. "He is doing pretty good in many other ways, scares me in some even, but this protection thing is a puzzle for him. And nothing I do or say seems to help, he's just too pigheaded to understand."

  Baba Yaga nodded. "I hear you, Hilda. Has he ever had the need to protect himself in his previous world?"

  "Not that he mentioned," Hilda said.

  "Sounds like an interesting person then. Let me tell you something..." Baba Yaga and Hilda talked a bit, and Hilda liked what Babs had to share.

  35. Protect thyself (1)

  William stared at the hostility-emitting trees beneath them. They were on their way to Baba Yaga's hut, a stiff flight and therefore the longest that William had made so far.

  "Are you sure we're in the right place?", he asked. "These forests look as if they don't want anyone here."

  "That's because they don't," Hilda confirmed with a big smile. "Isn't that shiny?"

  Shiny to William had so far meant something else, but then, one was never too old to learn.

  "We're not far now, so you can relax. You've done well on the flying, William." Hilda patted him on the arm gently, as not to break his concentration. A crash in these woods was not like plummeting down at home, many of the leaves on the trees wererazor-sharp. "Now do remember to always approach Babs' hut from the front, where the door is. Otherwise it might attack you."

  "Yeah, you mentioned that about a dozen times, I think I'll remember," he grinned. Hearing that the flight was almost over did him good. His bones were getting restless.

  Finally it was there: the end. Of the flight, that is. Hilda had told William to fly behind her and watch what she was doing. The tone in her voice had made it clear that this was very important. He did as he was told, and in a very weird pattern they then flew among the trees, on a trajectory that did not make any sense. But then, they were going to see a witch. That concept threw any notion or need of sense out the window.

  The couple ended up on the short path that led to Baba Yaga's garden. The fence around it was now painted bright yellow and ash grey. The skulls on the sticks were orange this time.

  "She's been creative again," chuckled Hilda.

  William, even while prepared for the skulls, had to swallow a few times when he came face to bony face with them.

  "William, your broom?" Hilda was already standing near one of the four giant chicken legs. Holding the brooms up, she asked the hut: "Could you hold these for us?"

  The leg lifted a toe and Hilda shoved the brooms under it. The toe clamped the brooms to the ground, and the witch patted the big foot. "Thank you."

  The door swung open. "HILLY! WILLY!"

  Hilda screamed for joy, William cringed. He was not a Willy kind of person. Hilda hugged the ugly witch and then it was William's turn, and he had no real option to refuse. After the experience he decided it was not as bad as he had imagined, but he had not been far off.

  Baba Yaga let them into the hut and treated them to tea and her personal interpretation of scones. They were like the real thing, only severely larger. Hilda and William shared one and felt as if they had eaten enough for the rest of the day.

  Meanwhile, the ugly witch fired questions at William about how he thought he would protect himself. He had no real answer to any of the questions, for him defense and protecion were all rather theoretical and academic issues.

  "Oh, really. Well, by the time you go home, you will think differently." Babs cackled, very satisfied with herself.

  "You are not going to hurt him, are you?", Hilda asked.

  "Oh, no. Not me. And if he handles himself well, he won't be hurt badly either," the ugly witch grinned.

  That did not make William feel all that well about it. "When you say 'not me', does that imply you have recruited alternative means to hurt me?"

  "Hilly, I've got to hand it to you, you fished up a clever boy," Baba Yaga nodded.

  Hilda frowned. "What did you do?"

  "Oh, nothing lethal. Grey elves." The Russian witch said it as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

  "The big ones or the little ones?", Hilda then asked. Her face showed some concern, and William was not certain if that was something good.

  "The big ones. For now. But first we'll try and talk some sense into him, despite his cleverness."

  Again William had the uneasy feeling that had had been demoted to furniture. The two witches together had that one down to an artform.

  "So, Willy," the ugly witch made him cringe inside again. "Do you like pain?"

  "No. Of course not."

  Babs looked at him. "Hmmf. 'Of course not'. So easily said. Some people- but I digress... Good. Now we have that established, you should be aware that pain can come on many different levels. Hmm. Can you think of some?"

  William was not prepared for that. "Well, physical obviously. And mental. Emotional."

  "How about magical?", Baba Yaga asked.

  "I guess so, although I am not sure what to expect by that." William felt an uncanny sensation crawl over his shoulders and he was certain it had a right to be there.

  "Oh, don't worry. You'll know when we're don
e here," Babs did not make him feel at ease. Then, at a speed he had deemed impossible for the witch opposite him, she lashed out and hit him hard on the cheek.

  His wand appeared in his right hand as his left hand touched the burning cheek.

  "Good reaction, only too late and too shallow," Baba Yaga nodded. "Hilda, you may want to go for a walk, or do something fun around the garden. This might become a bit painful to watch."

  "I'll stay for now," said the wicked witch, "and I promise not to interfere. Sorry, William."

  "Right then. Willy, come over here with me." The witch stood in the centre of the hut where there was some limited open space.

  William was not sure if that was a good idea, but as they had come all this way for this, he had no viable alternative.

  "What do your people use to protect their body?", Baba Yaga asked him. Her eyes were probably directed straight at him, but he couldn't tell for the folds of her skin.

  "Well, in the old days there were suits of armour. Something that works now would be the outfit of a football player," he thought out loud.

  "Good. Good. Can you conjure that up?" As he hesitated, Babs offered that she could provide some material to change; that would be easier than materialising something out of nothing.

  A little later William looked at a heap of... stuff. He envisioned the garments he remembered, pointed his wand, and what he wanted was there. The two witches looked at the helmet, the shirt with the broad shoulders, the padding. In relative silence he put it on and looked at his protection teacher. "This would be it, more or less."

  "I see what you mean," Babs said, and kicked him in the shin. "Not very adequate yet."

  William nodded, the helmet bobbing on his head as it missed straps to tighten it. He took the helmet off, added straps to it, and after a few tries made sturdy leather pants that could take a beating. Or a kicking. Dressed like that and feeling like a complete idiot, he stood and looked at the witch.

  "Good, good. A bit cumbersome to put on, but this at least will work against many physical unarmed attacks." She suddenly had a dagger in her hand and slipped that through the shoulderpadding, pricking William's skin. "See? And this little thingy isn't even the sharpest tool there is."

  William got the message. "This stuff is not going to do a lot of good, it is?" He wanted to take some of it off again, but his teacher stopped him.

  "The clothes are not good, but the concept, the idea is. If you can think of this stuff and add to it that it is inpenetrable, then you've made quite a step forward."

  William frowned from under his big Yankees helmet. "Right. That is where I have stranded before."

  "William, how do you make the broom fly?", Hilda asked him.

  Baba Yaga turned to her for a moment, but said nothing. The question was good.

  "Well, I just connect with it and let it know where I want to go."

  "Ah!" Babs nodded. "That is good. Connect with this outfit, these strange clothes, and let them know what you want from them."

  William closed his eyes and imagined the feeling for the broom. Slowly he worked his way through the feeling, shifted it to the clothes, and then he sensed a change in their presence.

  He opened his eyes and saw a small grey object race towards him. It looked like a ladybug, but was taller and fatter. Thin wings carried the five inch long apparition through the air, and did so at an incredible speed. It bumped into him. The impact was silent and massive, but he did not feel it. It was as if the grey elf, as that was what it was, bumped off his shirt without really touching it.

  The elf did not give up though. It attacked again and again, hitting William four, five, six times in different places. It did not get to him, as long as he held his screen of massive clothes up. Suddenly the elf disappeared.

  With a grin William turned to the two witches and then a solid whack in the back threw him on the floor. A combined attack of four grey elves and him dropping his protection were the reasons for that. He looked up from the floor. "That was not good, was it?"

  "I am glad you noticed that." The Russian witch got up again. "Do not drop your protection until you are certain you can. Wear it like a favourite shirt. Now, get up and do it again."

  William started to get up but was whacked down again by the witch. "Ouch, damn. That hurt!"

  "It should. Did I say you were safe?"

  Hilda got up and left the hut. "I'll come back later." She knew that Babs did the right thing, but that did not mean she was happy to see William get the crap kicked out of him.

  "No," William admitted. So he reinforced his clothes and then got up. This time Babs whacked him again, with a bolt of energy. It threw him through the hut and landed him against a wall, but it didn't hurt. He got to his feet and stared at the witch, wishing that his feet would hold against another such attack. He was hit from the left by three of the four grey elves. He did not really feel them, but their presence did draw his attention away from Baba Yaga, who banged him with another jolt of power. It made him stagger on his feet, but he remained upright.

  "You learn fast, Willy. Just now, understand that you should focus on the place where the most danger comes from." Something that William recognised as a smile formed on Babs' face. The reason for that were the four arms that suddenly materialised from the wall behind him and folded themselves around him, pinning him to the wall in a very professional manner.

  "That is not fair," William protested. "Walls don't have arms."

  "Are you sure?", the witch asked him. "Sure look like arms to me, Willy. And they will hold you there until you think of something to get away from them." Baba Yaga took a book, sat at the table and seemed to have forgotten about William altogether.

  The magic William used was enough to keep the arms from squeezing him, but he had to think of something, and decide on that fast too. Trying to understand what it was that held him did not bring him anything. The magic of the witch was strong, strange. He'd have to counter it with something that would come from inside him, not with something logical or sensible.

  "Are you having fun?" Babs did not even look up as she asked him.

  "Loads," he replied, making her laugh.

  The arms squeezed a bit harder. He knew it. He'd have to figure out something fast; this situation could not last. Then an idea shot through his head and somehow into his magical core. The wall behind him dissolved and the pressure of the arms made him shoot backwards out of the hut. He had anticipated that in the fraction of a second he had for it, and somehow he managed a backward roll and land on his feet. In an impulse he shot at the wall with his wand, closing it up again. Only then he stared at where he was and what had happened.

  A shriek from inside the hut told him that Babs was at least as surprised as he was. It also made Hilda come running back to the hut.

  "William?"

  He grinned a stupid grin. "I got out."

  The door opened and Baba Yaga appeared. "Damn, that was good, Willy! Instead of fighting the arms you found a way out. Botch job on fixing the wall, but I'll take care of that."

  A small storm of grey elves appeared and all dove onto William, bouncing off his protective sphere. His reaction was to throw even more at them, and many of them smashed into the trees that were around. A slight sensation of paranoia was taking over and he was ready for more. Baba Yaga, as far as he knew now, was the enemy and she was really out to get him.

  Of course, she wasn't, but her attempt to get him into a proper mood had finally worked.

  Most of the elves that had been slammed into the trees sat on the ground, rubbing their heads and looking a bit surprised. Hilda and Babs knew that these elves could take a beating, so they did not worry about them.

  Babs raised her hands. "Okay, William, calm down now. I am not going to get to you for now, until I declare the show on again."

  William nodded and dropped his protection. He was however shaken up enough to keep his finger on it, so to speak, so he could pull it up at the slightest sign of menace. From whate
ver side that might come.

  "Fine. Now come in and we'll get some food on the table."

  William walked over to Hilda, took her hand and together they walked to the hut. Following another impulse, as they went inside, William patted the wall. "Sorry for the hole."

  The two witches frowned. He really was learning quickly.

  After having something to eat, William took off the football attire, and they discussed his progress. Baba Yaga was satisfied, but she urged him to keep close to the feeling. "An attack can happen at any time. A challenge is called out, but any idiot can have a go at you. And don't take that lightly, William, an ordinary can shoot an arrow at you and you have to be prepared for that as well. Keep the feelers out all the time. It has to become a part of you."

  William nodded. "Like radar 24/7."

  "I'm sorry Babs, he often says strange things like that," Hilda apologised for William.

  "Whatever works for him," said the Russian witch.

  The afternoon went by with William practising drawing up the protection as fast as he could. At first he was granted some time to just get the hang of it. Then the ugly witch tied a funny-smelling cloth around his face and the real challenge for the wizard to be started.

  "You will stay here in the garden, Willy," she said. "There are some surprises coming at you from now on, and you will not know when, from where or from whom. Remember that there also can be good things, so try to distinguish them from the real attacks. This is the real thing, here is where you can make points."

  William wondered what points they would be and where he would cash them. But that of course implied he'd get some. And so far he was staring into the dark, literally. William held a finger on his protective cover the way he had managed to adopt it, envisioning it as the football attire, with the difference that now he was not wearing it. It also gave him more space to be agile.

  Small grey elves now joined their larger family members. Hilda and Baba Yaga were sitting on one of the stone benches in the garden, rocky slabs on stacks of skulls, waiting to see what was going to happen.