“Oh, yes. The Garandian army. He’s safe to let through,” the second guard yelled back.
“Good. Why was he running, then?”
When I ran out of breath and stopped, I realized I had no idea where I was. I’d found myself in the middle of a very large public square surrounded by wooden booths. It appeared that I was in the market area. Even though it was the middle of the day, the area was completely deserted. I was very disappointed by the lack of tumbleweeds.
I decided to yell, mostly to see if anyone was around to help me, but also because I really love the sound of a good echo. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
After a few moments of waiting with no response, I decided to walk toward the main keep and see if they’d let me in. I was sure Arik would help me if they’d let me see her. I turned toward the keep and jumped with a start when I found a man standing right behind me. He was short, with plastered-on dark hair and an equally plastered-on smile.
“Are you in need of some assistance, sir?”
“Yes, I need to find a safe place. The Sculander army is probably heading this way.”
“You’re in luck, my good man.” The odd man put his right hand on my shoulder. “Can I call you Harry?”
“Well, that is my name, but I’m not sure how you know that.”
“Great, Harry. Harry, do I have a deal for you. You’re in luck today. When I say a quick, reliable ride, what comes to mind, Harry?”
I put my hand to my chin to indicate how wise I was. “Well, either a Jaguar or a Mercedes.”
“No, you don’t want those, though they are pretty nice, Harry. What you really need is a three-legged donkey. Nothing beats the style, comfort, and dependability of a three-legged donkey. Three-legged donkeys have long been the mark of the stylish peasant on the go. With one of my donkeys, you could be the envy of your neighbors and catch the eye of every eligible young lady you pass. Wouldn’t you like it if all of the ladies were giving you the wink instead of the local thug?”
“Well, that would be nice.”
“Fantastic. For only a hundred and twelve payments of ten trakons, I could put you on the back of a deluxe three-legged donkey today. How does that sound, Harry?”
That didn’t sound like very good terms to me. One hundred and twelve payments? For ten trakons, I could get a new broadsword and a nice sheaf, or three pairs of some very stylish pantaloons. “I did hear two-legged donkeys were the best.”
“Harry, no offense, but you don’t strike me as the kind of man who could afford one of those babies. Two-legged donkeys are reserved for only the wealthiest of nobles.”
“But I’m a prophet of The One! The Holy Archon himself named me Harry the Prophet.”
“Well, then, that’s a different story.”
This guy was really, really good. I wondered if I could talk him into selling my merchandise later. I bet he could sell my stuff to people who had never heard of my series. Then again, after this show had aired, everyone would probably have heard of it, just not in a good way.
“Harry . . . err . . . Mr. Prophet, I’ll let you have my best two-legged donkey for free, if you keep an advertisement for my dealership on the sides at all times. Sound good? A prophet should ride in style, after all.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Splendid. Here you go. Hop on.”
I had no idea where the donkey had come from. He had me walking in circles, and there wasn’t anything near us the whole time. I was beginning to think this guy was a wizard of some sort, which didn’t make sense, since the Atlians and the Old Gods were the only people who used magic in Vyenra. Was he supposed to be the god of donkey selling?
I climbed onto the back of the donkey after several failed attempts, vowing to take lessons on how to properly climb onto the back of a mount when I finally got out of this show. I really was terrible at it, even though my riding skills had become quite decent.
The back of the two-legged donkey was surprisingly comfortable—even more comfortable than my Honda Civic back home. The donkey wasn’t air conditioned, however, and it had gotten exceptionally hot and humid. The effort of my numerous attempts to mount had left me dripping with sweat and desperately in need of water. A chili dog would have been really nice, too.
The cries of the fleeing army were getting pretty close. It sounded like they’d entered the city. I assumed the guards at the gate couldn’t stop all of them at once with their inane questions, and I really didn’t want to get run over, either accidentally or as part of the plot, so I pulled on the reins and put my heels into the beast’s sides. I really needed to get moving fast, as it sounded like the army was only a few blocks away. I also wanted to see just how fast this thing could move, as the salesman had described it as the fastest thing on land other than a cheetah or an angry ex-girlfriend. Unfortunately, the donkey just stood there and chewed on a bit of grass growing in the cracks between the cobbles.
“How do you get this thing to move?” I demanded.
There was no response from the salesman. I looked around and he was nowhere to be seen. I had only been looking away for a second. How could he have left so quickly? It was just like a salesman to be everywhere at once when you needed to buy something but disappear when you needed help.
I put my heels into the donkey’s sides and pulled on the reins again. The only reaction I got was what looked like exhaust coming out of the donkey’s back end. Fortunately, the wind was blowing away from me. I looked around in the unlikely hope of finding an owner’s manual, but there didn’t appear to be any. It’s too bad donkeys don’t have glove boxes.
The fleeing army sounded like they were less than a block away. I began to sweat more profusely. Even after a few more tugs on the reins, the donkey still would not move. I contemplated climbing back off and making a run for it, but with my ineptitude in dismounting, I realized that was not an option. I let go of the reins and began to weep.
Evidently, weeping to two-legged donkeys is what turning the key and pressing the accelerator is to a car. The donkey jolted forward at an incredible pace. I was fortunate that I had a deluxe donkey with a seat belt and safety harness, as those were the only things keeping me on its back—well, that, and fear. That fear prevented me from finding out one of my life’s biggest questions—just how does a two-legged donkey move? More than likely, they can’t—it’s special effects and a pulley system that gives them the illusion of movement.
I really wish I had been able to look down then. The ride was surprisingly smooth, even with the wind blowing hard in my face. The salesman really should have given me a helmet. I probably ended up swallowing all of the flying insect species wherever it was we were filming.
The city blurred by. I saw brief glimpses of houses I had passed on my way in, then I saw the docks. Suddenly I was over water, and I had a brief view of the palace back on the island of Garandia. A blur, and then I saw the ruins of a massive, abandoned city. I blinked, and then I was over water again. Then land. The last of my tears must have dried, because the donkey came to a halt in front of a rather nice-looking building in a well-maintained part of town. What town? I wasn’t sure. I began to wipe the bug bits off my face, then jumped with a start when a hand touched my thigh.
“Harry? Is that you? How did you get here?”
When my vision finally cleared, I saw Verix standing next to me. “Verix! Where am I?”
“You’re in the Chistine District.”
“Of Caltisport?”
“Yes, of course. Where else would you be?” Verix rubbed my donkey’s coat reverently. “Wow. My family could never afford one of these, and we’re nobles.”
“Is the battle over? How did you get here?”
“It was a rout. I managed to rally some of our soldiers and kill the enemy’s leader, Sterlton Penwhicker, but it wasn’t enough. I barely made it out alive, and then I came straight here through the southern gate. We need to get out of town immediately, as I don’t think the townspeople will be able to hold out for very l
ong. Some of the rebels managed to get in with our fleeing troops.”
“Then we need to get to the docks. Do you know the way?”
Verix nodded and led my donkey forward. I really wanted to look underneath it to see how it was moving, but knew if I did that, I’d fall off. Given my difficulties with mounting, it was a risk I couldn’t afford to take. I tried looking for a reflection in a window to see below, but none of the buildings we passed had any windows at street level. I wasn’t sure if that had been done to prevent me from seeing how the donkey worked or to save on the cost of windows. As luck would have it, right before we finally got near a large window, a noise caught our attention from behind.
“World, look oooooout!” a deep baritone sang. “How could you ever dooooooubt?” He continued, “The duo escaped lockoooooout.”
“It’s Axin and Weeeeeeel!” his companion finished in a falsetto. “Here to kill you with zeal.”
“Critics described their performance as loud,” I said.
“You’re terrible,” Verix said to me as he let go of my donkey’s reins.
“Did someone say ‘things too terrible to say out loud?’” the first armored man asked. They both had their visors down, so I couldn’t see their faces.
“I surmise they did, my compatriot,” the second one said. “That is our cue, is it not?”
Verix moved in front me and drew his sword. “Axin and Weel. How did you two escape from prison? Have you joined the Sculanders?”
The first one, Axin, pulled up his visor to show us a naughty grin. “We didn’t need to escape. They let us off for good behavior. Only our master was convicted. Now, give us the scribe.”
“This is your idea of good behavior?” I asked.
Weel snorted, his visor amplifying the sound so that it echoed down the narrow street. “Relatively speaking, since we’re only going to kill two people—yes, that would qualify as good behavior by comparison. We did once sack three allied towns in a week, just to get our month’s numbers up.”
Axin lowered his sword and smiled wistfully. “I can still hear the screaming of the innocent. Puts me to sleep every night. Now, since our master is currently unavailable, we must get his revenge by proxy.”
Verix’s gauntlet squeaked as he gripped his sword harder. “I’ll die before I let the likes of you have my friend. Harry, I’ll hold them off as long as I can. You get to safety.”
Never one to have to be told twice not to stay and get stabbed, I turned my donkey around. It would have been kind of neat to see the sword fight, but then I’d have to listen of more of Weel’s terrible butchering of the English (and identical Garandian) language.
As I teared up slightly, my donkey trotted back to the spot where I had found Verix. The sound of the army had gotten a lot closer. They should have still been at least fifteen minutes away, but they sounded much, much closer. If I had to guess, I’d say they were only a few minutes away.
Every gap in between the houses was blocked off, and there were no side streets between me and the sound of the coming mob. I was evidently being forced into confronting Axin and Weel, so I turned back around. Perhaps this was the showrunners’ way of making up for all of those terrible rumors they had spread about me and these awful singing knights. They did owe me a scene where I showed off my heroism, and those two would be the perfect targets. I dismounted the donkey to help, but first I would need to find a weapon.
Verix had disarmed Axin completely, but Weel had bashed my friend down to his knees. Verix desperately unleashed a flurry of swings and barely managed to stumble to his feet, which gave Axin time to pick up his sword and hit him from behind. Verix swung wildly, at least giving himself some breathing room, but it didn’t look good for him. I desperately wanted to help, but I still couldn’t find a weapon.
One of Verix’s swings caught Axin on the side of his helmet. Axin staggered and then collapsed to the ground. Seizing the opening, Weel disarmed Verix and knocked him onto his back. I wasn’t sure if Axin was unconscious or dead, but he didn’t react when I took his sword. With Verix completely at his mercy, Weel pulled off his helmet and panted.
“If the king finds out that you’ve killed a fellow knight in cold blood,” Verix said, “you’ll be banished, and all of your family’s land will be confiscated. Also, you’ll be suspended for three whole jousting tournaments unless you win an appeal.”
“Fortunately, you’ll be too deceased to notify him of such an occurrence. I shall relish this instant in its entirety for the rest of my existence.” Weel slowly massaged his rival’s neck with the blade.
Verix’s eyes brightened when he caught me sneaking up behind Weel. “Why, exactly, do you hate me so much? Be sure to take as much time as you need. Relish it all you want. You’ve earned it as a worthy opponent. Start with your childhood. Tell me about your parents.”
“Well, it all started in a small baronetcy just outside Trobanton called Gurb. My progenitor had gained his spurs under the previous Duke of Trobanton, Brintan, and my mother was a nurse serving in the last great insurrection in Sculan. I was born during the largest and longest blizzard Garandia had suffered in over two centuries. The precipitation was so thick . . .”
Weel was so absorbed in his story that I was able to get completely behind him. I positioned the blade right behind his neck and made a few slow practice stabs to get the exact motion down.
It truly amazed me how much I’d grown since this journey began. At the beginning, it would have never occurred to me to attack someone so much stronger than I, but here I was, in a dangerous situation, and my second instinct was to attack. Without hesitation, too!
“. . . and the horse kissed me. It was completely unexpected. I didn’t know what to think. I mean, I wasn’t interested in the equine in such a way, but I did enjoy it . . .”
At the last second, I decided to grip the blade two-handed, which, given my less than epic strength, was a sound idea. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t enough, as Weel’s armor also extended to the back of his neck. The sword bounced off the back of his neck with a loud clang, and it fell from my hands. While I had leveled up in bravery, it had evidently not come with any secondary abilities that would be helpful in the performance of brave deeds.
Weel paused at the sensation and was about to turn when Verix sprang a question on him. “Why did you have to take your singing lessons in secret?”
Weel turned back toward him. “Ahh, excellent query. You see, my father’s rival for my mother’s affection was a rapping minstrel named Sir Lutes-a-lot, which forever poisoned him from the melodic arts.”
After my hands had stopped throbbing, I picked up the sword again and aimed for the gap in his armor near his armpit. This time my aim was true, and the sword pierced halfway through the cloth below. I could almost see skin through the indentation I had put in his undershirt.
Verix rolled his eyes, but, being the patient, disciplined knight he was, continued questioning without pause. “Do you find bullying rewarding, or do you just do it because you’re so much of a natural at it?”
“You really do get me, worthy adversary. I find it rewarding because I excel at it. My favorite memory is the instance in which I accosted a particularly emaciated turnip collector . . .”
I began sawing the undershirt with the sword. After a few more minutes, I finally had a hole big enough to get a good stab through it, but just as I snapped the blade back, Axin grabbed my shoe. I tripped and fell forward onto Weel. Because of his heavy armor and heavier body, I only managed to bounce off him and slide to the ground. This finally got his attention, and he turned around.
“You! Do you have any idea how much effort we have expended in our quest for your re-apprehension?”
“Four thousand five,” I said.
His face screwed up in puzzlement. “Four thousand five what? Hours? Calories? Trakon?”
Before I could answer, Weel dropped to the ground, a blade buried under his armpit. The same armpit I had heroically softened up.
<
br /> Verix shrugged. “Sorry. I got tired of waiting.”
Verix walked over to Axin, who had begun to rise, and punched the back of his head with his gauntlet. He stopped moving, but he appeared to be breathing, barely. I was about to complain that his action wasn’t consistent with the character from my book, but I stopped when Verix winced in pain and held his side.
Very clever of the actor to do that. I couldn’t help but rush to his side in sympathy. And don’t you go saying it was all an act and I shouldn’t have believed him. He looked just like the character I had poured my heart into. The guy was like a son to me—a much better-looking, more athletic son who didn’t look anything like me—but he was the closest thing I had.
“Don’t worry, Verix. You can ride my donkey back.”
“What donkey?” He gritted his teeth but managed to stand all the way up.
I really do create some fantastic characters, don’t I?
I turned around, and in the spot my donkey had occupied only a moment ago, I found nothing other than a small piece of paper. I knew I should have locked him up. In the movies, this kind of thing never happened. The heroes always left their mounts unattended, and the mounts were always there when they came back. It really didn’t make sense. If you left your car unlocked in the real world, there was a good chance it might be stolen.
What do you secure a donkey with, anyway? Do you use a bike lock? Do you take the saddle with you so they have nothing to sit on? Maybe there’s something like the Club for horses and donkeys. Curiosity got the better of me, and I picked up the piece of paper off the ground.
Dear Madam or Sir,
Thank you for leaving your Deluxe Two-Legged Donkey unattended. We regret to inform you that your donkey has been stolen. Do not worry; it will be well taken care of. We promise to feed it and give it ample exercise. We will also present it to many eligible female two-legged donkeys.
Don’t forget to write this loss off on your taxes! If you need a tax consultant, please leave a note of inquiry on anything of value in the area, and we will be sure to write back.
Why I Can't Have Nice Kings Page 21