by Sean Heslin
Perci stood next to Rancha's bucket, and his hand toyed with one of the buckles on his armour. He was severely worried and tried to think of a decent rallying cry. So far, he had come up with “Kill them all!” but it didn't really have much of a zing to it.
Eric's army came within arrow range.
And they came closer.
And closer.
And closer.
And...they stopped.
“Eh?” spoke various voices about the watchtower.
“Hello there!” said Eric through a megaphone. “Anybody home?”
Perci peeked his head over the edge and peered down. “Go away! We don't want any!” he shouted back.
“Any of what?” came the reply.
“Er.” Perci cast about. “No double glazing here thank you!”
Eric was taken aback. He glanced around at his army uncertainly as if he had suddenly been transported into another version of reality. Jocene stuck her tongue out at him.
“You what?” he shouted upwards.
“You heard me! We don't like your sort here!” Perci retracted his head and spoke quietly to Goe. “Whatever you are doing, do it now.”
Goe nodded and snapped his fingers.
There was not even a hint of glitter. Simply, as promised, every single member of the army on the front row immediately went to sleep and collapsed where they stood. Eric actually felt some amazement, it was an impressive trick after all.
“See!” shouted down Perci. “We are serious! Go away!”
Eric jumped down from his saddle and kicked the nearest comatose soldier.
“Now look here...!” he shouted up.
“No excuses! Shoo!”
“Shoo?” repeated Eric. “Somebody put an arrow through that pansy, before he does something really insane.”
But the army did not move at his command. Their eyes were all fixed upwards.
Much perturbed, Eric also looked further up and saw an intensely dark cloud spreading from atop the tower. Wondering vaguely what it portended, he was about to give another, harsher order to attack, when:
“Okay, try this one on for size!” shrieked a madman standing on the roof brandishing a squirming rabbit. The heavens crackled above him, and all the power in the vicinity seemed to concentrate on this too-real, too-present figure.
“Don’t I know him?” said Eric. He looked at the distant face, finally in focus after all their encounters over the years. Something clicked in his head. The badly formed image taken from confessions past, studied and pored over. A symbol of hate, and of course, Fear.
It couldn't be.
It was.
“Wait! It’s him! The stupid fnugging sorceror! It's him! Right you lot, stuff the plan and go get him, now!”
It was too late. Eric felt his ears pop, and then, there was chaos.
---
Shortly, Yrinmet scrabbled his way back down to Perci on the balcony and stood by his side casually observing the results.
“Pretty good, eh?” he said, feeding the rabbit a piece of lettuce from his pocket.
“Can you teach me how to do that?”
“Not a chance. Good time for a cigar though don't you think?”
At the base of the tower, the army had gone mad. Every member of it who wasn't rooted to the spot and swaying gently, had started running around randomly with appendages in the air and screaming loudly.
Those at the distant edges had immediately turned tail and fled, and many soldiers were being trampled by the blindly flailing duwaark.
Matters were then not helped by the introduction of several dragons made of flame springing into existence above their heads and swooping around.
Eric stood with his arms folded, fuming gently while the madness raged on.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the chaos stopped.
The people in and around the tower flinched at the sudden waves of enhanced Fear that ran over them, and many troops fell to the ground clutching at their heads and voiding their bowels.
Eric gave orders to his generals via horseback messengers, to get the army back in line, and NOW!
Order was restored alarmingly quickly, but Eric has suffered dramatic losses. At least a square million all told had died during the panic, killed by their comrades.
The squad atop the tower noted with displeasure that only two of the twister cannons had been broken, and there was still the small matter of the other seven million troops who now were standing back in line and growling softly.
Eric tapped his foot and looked upwards once more. “Are you finished? I have a world to conquer you know.”
“Er,” said Perci. “Would a bribe be out of the question?”
Eric just laughed. “Send down the sorceror. It’s his fault after all.”
“How about a present? I have a quality bucket here you might like!”
“A bucket?” frowned Eric.
“Sure! Hold on I'll just throw it down!” Perci stepped back and prayed. “Please any god who is listening, let whatever Rancha planned work, I don't wanna die!”
“Oh,” whispered a tired Milspeth. “Finally. An easy one.”
Perci felt something take control of his arm, as a force drew it back and with might that he did not know that he possessed, threw a now twinkling bucket in a high arc over the guard rail.
Eric watched it descend in slow motion somewhere behind and to the left of himself and shook his head in disbelief. Then he remembered his hard-learned lesson in not underestimating the heroes and ordered his army back a safe distance from the bucket which now lay in its own mini crater.
He ordered an expendable imp forward to investigate.
“Ish jusht a pieche of rotten meaht,” the imp reported haltingly, its speech merely a side effect rather than by design. It waggled the floppy beef around. “Ish moving a bit though. Me kill ish?”
“Moving?” said Eric, just the meat exploded in the imps claws and spat out several pungent globules.
Eric peered at the lumps. “What the...”
Each one of the globules started to bubble menacingly and smoke about the edges. Eric pulled back more than a little at this sight, as the blobs solidified and grrrrreeeeeewwww...
“Attack! Now! Attack!” screamed Eric. As the army surged forward though, it was too late, far too late.
The six fully newly formed urglons glanced about uneasily at the running soldiers, then each one, in turn, concentrated and transformed into several enormous somethings.
“Fnug!” said Terand, looking over the parapet. He had ran back upstairs to the parapet when Yrinmet's mystical panic had started. “Duwaarks! I hate duwaarks!”
Six extra-large duwaarks were now very much present and did what they did best and started to utterly, totally and completely decimate the millions-strong army.
Watching the carnage from the safety atop the watchtower, the crew felt quite sick. Pib gave a shout and they lowered a rope to the tiny figure of Jocene who was trying to climb up the vertical wall of the keep, rubbing her fingers to bloody bone stumps in an effort to get out of the way as fast as possible.
Dragging her to relative safety, they just stood and watched the many teeth and tentacles do their grisly work. After a while, they did not feel like watching anymore and went indoors in an attempt to escape the shouts of pain and the moans and crunching of the dying and gurgling of the dead.
Pushing shut the heavy door, they regained some sanity, only the occasional bloodcurdling yell permeating the thick walls.
“Do you think he is enjoying himself?” said Jocene.
“Are you kidding? Which one?” said Terand throwing his hands up into the air.
“Are they all Rancha do you think?” asked Pib.
“Yes,” said Yrinmet. “But how? A duplication spell? I did not think he knew anything of the Arts.”
Goe gave a deep sigh. He looked very tired after his recent exertions, but knew this was not a good time for sleeping. “What Rancha did was something am
azingly...mm...stupid. But you should thank him. He...mm...saved us all.”
“But what did he do?” demanded Perci.
Goe sat back and closed his eyes. “It is actually a really simple thing, anything alive can do it. He turned into a bacterium, which can be classed as a sort of an animal. Then...mm...the beef was a nice touch, extra protein, he...mm...multiplied in the half an hour or so we had spare.”
“He multiplied?” said Yrinmet, incredulous.
“Is it so hard to...mm...believe?”
“But what was so stupid about it?” said Pib. “Sounds pretty clever to me.”
“Ah, that's the problem my little iccle,” said Milspeth gathering up the little yellow lady up in her arms for a comforting hug. “It is too clever. And there is a big price to pay.”
“Not enough soul to...mm...go round. We are all issued just one each, and Rancha divided his into six. Which is not...mm...healthy. Not at all.”
“What will happen to him?” asked Perci with a genuine look of concern.
“Well first he will go quite mad, trying to...mm...control all the bodies at once. Then, he will just, die. Suddenly, without warning. Spread himself too thinly.”
“But there is a way around it,” said Milspeth.
“Yes, there is a way.” Goe looked at the floor. “He has to commit suicide at least five times, which is the most painful thing anybody can do.”
Nobody said anything after this, and sat in the gloomy silence, only the occasional shout of battle reaching them.
Chapter 57
“Life is in every drop, every atom, every quivering piece of quantum foam of existence, just waiting for a chance to be. Some atoms get attached to other atoms. This is called ‘sadness’.”
- Hesia Selnni, fabled poet-scientist of the Agoriat Era, 1999 C.M.
A long while later, they were all too embittered to rest, so they sat around, blankly staring at each other and the walls with about the same amount of recognition for each.
Nobody seemed to want to or care about breaking the silence. There was no need to. Eventually Perci stood, drawing their attention. He averted his eyes and muttered something about getting some air. He left, and one by one they followed him out onto the dreaded walkway. The sight that was before them was one to inspire great sadness to any lover of life. The small war was long since over and bloodied, bloated bodies lay strewn about the ruins of the old forgotten city. The battlefield seemed to shimmer pink in the sudden heat, with all the leaking, gaping wounds.
Even the battle-hardened Jocene felt a slight movement in her stomach at this sight, for many of the bodies were not just stabbed or slashed but quite plainly ripped limb from limb. The gore stench filled the air and most of the living observers gagged and reached for things to cover their faces.
Many, if not all of the Undying had returned to their graves, and regrettably, dreadfully, they were joined by far too many new comrades. Even a squad of practically invincible gargoyles had been smashed to pieces by their assailants, and numerous bodies on the outskirts looked to have been cut down by other warriors fleeing the carnage.
Goe and Milspeth were weeping. “All that life...!” Goe was heard to gasp before burying his face.
“They were all mostly dead anyway,” said Yrinmet, attempting to be scathing, but clearly not believing a word of it himself.
Perci's knees finally gave out, and he sat down heavily, shaking his head. “There had to have been another way, there had to have been.”
“Do you, do you think he survived?” said Terand, scanning the battlefield and trying not to retch.
“Ha, which one, Rancha or Eric?” said Jocene without a trace of humour.
“I can't believe he did all this,” said Pib softly, wide eyes welling up.
“But think how many more would have died if he had not,” said Yrinmet. There were one or two conceding nods.
“A means to an end,” quoted Yrinmet.
“Yeah,” said Terand. “But Ernie the Murderous said that, and look what he did.”
“What did he do anyway?” said Perci.
Jocene leaned across and whispered several graphic somethings into Perci's ear. Perci sprang up, ran to the side and noisily vomited.
It was something they all felt like doing at the moment.
After a little while, Goe dried his eyes and straightened up. “Come on, let's see if we cannot spot the urglon of the hour. And hope like...mm...hell he's regained his sanity.”
Terand and Jocene started to prowl about the tower, staring out at the sea of bodies. A short time later, they returned.
Jocene delivered the grisly news. “The count is six duwaark bodies. All dead.”
Pib started to cry.
“Are you sure?” exclaimed Perci, springing up. “Count again! He can't be gone.”
Terand looked him in the eye. “Two bodies rended into shreds by the army, probably. One body missing most of its eyes and has spears sticking out of its torso. Two bodies look to have fought each other and choked to death. Last body minus its hide whilst trying to run away, by the sight of it. Completely eviscerated.”
“Not one for the kiddies,” commented Yrinmet, but far too dryly. He was clearly trying hard to hold onto his personality in the wake of the carnage. It was just too much.
Perci slumped against the wall. “Then he's gone. For good.”
“But he saved us all,” said Milspeth reaching out a spare motherly arm to comfort him. “He saved everybody, everywhere.”
There was silence once again.
Those who could stomach continued to look out at the war-zone, desperately trying to spot some sign that their companion and leader by default had survived. The only movements were from still twitching corpses, and the first of the carrion feeders from the skies.
It was official. Rancha was dead.
Again.
“'Why the...long faces?' said the...barman to...the herd of direhorses?”
“What the...?” said Perci jerking up and twitching his head from side to side.
“Look, there!” cried Pib pointing.
Rising from the ruins of the red-stained city of Froob came a small winged creature, panting from the effort.
“Is that...!” said Yrinmet.
“I don't know,” said Terand squinting. “It seems too small for an urglon.”
“Of...course...ish me...you ninnies,” gasped the creature, still rising. “I...may do some stupid...things...but I'm not...daft!”
Rancha, in his Iruquo imp form finally reached the balcony and landed in an untidy heap. He waved away the sudden rush of people.
“Just...gimme...a...minute. Phew!”
They waited patiently for him to catch his breath. Pib went to fetch some water.
“Thankh you,” he said as it was offered. “I shuppose you are wondering how I got away then?”
“No, not really,” said Yrinmet.
They all nodded with the old 'I'm afraid that goes for me too' gesture.
“Oh,” Rancha said, rather put out. “Fine, be like that. I won't tell you how at the last minute I changed my sixth body into this and found somewhere to hide because I knew Eric wouldn't let any of me survive...hey, where you all going, come back here!”
They grudgingly came back. Perci looked thoughtful.
“Yes, Perci?”
“Just a thought: If we saw six corpses of duwaarks, and you were one of them, where did the spare come from?”
“There were seven. Eric brought one with him too, remember?”
“Ah, that would be it.”
Yrinmet and Terand had been discussing something in a corner. They returned suddenly and rounded upon the imp that was Rancha.
“You aren't really Rancha are you?” demanded Yrinmet.
“You are one of Eric's minions!” declared Terand.
“You were scared so you ran away!” shouted Yrinmet
“Eric is still out there, isn't he, you little spy?” yelled Terand
“Isn
't he?”
“Well?”
“No, no!” said the imp, desperately waving its paws. “I really am Rancha, look I'll prove it!”
With that, the imp took to the air again and landed on the roof. There was a whoomph of air and a familiar reptilian face swung itself down.
“Is this better?” asked Rancha archly.
“Sure!” said Terand.
“Knew it was you all along,” said Yrinmet.
“Whose rabbit is this?”
Milspeth stepped forward. “Stop this messing about all of you. Rancha are you sane and in full possession of your soul?”
Rancha assured her he was.
“And Terand, are you satisfied this is our urglon?”
Terand indicated he was.
“Then we are all sorted here. Get changed and come down here young urglon, I'd rather not spend any more time in this place, thank you very much.” She turned on her heel and marched inside, dragging Goe in tow. There were a few shrugs and the rest of the crew followed her also.
Sighing, Rancha surveyed the surroundings and the destruction he had wrought. Making a mental promise never to disregard children's stories ever again, he shrank to his human form.
“Er, can somebody pass me some clothes?” came the soft wail.
Chapter 58
“A reward is as only as good as the deed, unless the deed is its own reward. Then you are a chump.”
- Mayor Fenway, after the second incident, 4085 C.M.
In the tropical climes of the southerly regions of Grandag, upon the fair isle of Parli, Perci lay back on his sunbed and sipped at his Sunset Surprise with a great sigh of contentment. From his vantage point, here at one of the most stunning holiday vistas that existed, he could see the entirety of the clear, cool bay, lined by white finely ground sandy beaches and swaying, verdant palm trees. A quaint local fishing town straddled an ocean so blue that it would cause many artists to snap their brushes and promise to live a better life if they could just see it one more time.
A local dusky maiden approached him with a fresh drink, and winked at his broad smile. In the distance, he could hear the lapping of the waves and the splashing of oars as other pleasure-seekers took a boat out to the luxuriously overgrown island that sat a little way out to sea.