Ch: 112 We Can Hide Out Under There…
“Who’s this, in my pants? Gary asked happily, while Shai gently pummeled him around the head and ears.
“This is Jules, a local friend of mine.” Tawny said firmly.
Julius was surprised to see both Tawny Belen and his glib and nimble ‘horstess’ speak to such a simple, dull seeming fellow. He was dressed in common clothing and thoroughly unremarkable.
Tawny’s words wrought a strange and sudden change in the bland, boring man mumbling at Rolf. He snapped into focus. He was still tall and otherwise unremarkable, in many ways. Neither handsome nor well groomed, his clothing was very well made, but of common stuff and cut.
Even his posture, gestures and stance seemed an odd mixture of self effacing attempts to vanish into the shadows and exuberant, gregarious display.
“You! You are the shadow man with the waving backside!” Julius crowed, feeling strangely giddy. “I saw you in the palace garden!” He clapped with joy. “The palace is in an absolute tizzy…”
“Sorry about that, your bosses are gonna wanna yell at me about that before too long. The guards were pretty cranky about the whole deal.” The young man shrugged cheerfully. “Tomorrow's troubles will come collecting soon enough, there’s no discount for early worrying.”
Julius nodded sagely. “Yes, that is very wise… I see you are a learned man… what is your house?”
The young fellow thought for a moment, then grinned. “It’s me! Wow, that was quite a riddle… I like this guy…”
Now it was Julius’ turn to ponder. “I mean, what house holds your fealty? Belen?”
“I follow wherever the wind blows the dread pirate Shai, I’m her first mate. She just promoted me from cabin boy!” The man said happily while a tiny girl in blue climbed him like a tree.
“Admiral Amy Ward, terror of the shallow sea and public baths, this is Julius. He’s a friend of Tawny’s, so he’s cool.”
She nestled into a comfy spot on his shoulder and smiled. “Hi, do you know any songs?” She chirped happily.
“No, Admiral, I don’t… I’m very pleased to meet you though.” He held out a hand as though to shake, or perhaps allow her to kiss a ring.
Instead, she swarmed over, taking his hand and performing a bloodless boarding action. Once installed on his shoulder she nestled herself in and got comfy. “You feel soft… what lotion do you use?” She asked, dangerously close to his ear.
“I don’t know, my valets apply it.” He answered carefully.
“What’s a valet?”
“A person who helps me”
“If I help you, am I a valet?”
“You could be… are you seeking
employment?”
It went on like that… for a while.
#
“...so Dannyl and the kids kinda got swept away, while I got swept away… next thing I know I’m having a pleasant dream…” Gary was failing to explain in his usual way.
“Seems like I put on my own shadow and went for a stroll in it. My shadow still feels weird… loose maybe.” He shrugged. “I won’t be doing that again soon. The hangover is freaky.”
They were having a pleasant meeting in the garden, Gary called it ‘brunch’, for some reason. Rolf’s band, Tawny, Gary, Shai and Liam were seated on blankets, having a fine time.
Becky and Nara had the kids somewhere, doing something quiet for a change. After a while Liam looked around and asked Rolf; “What happened to Julius, your buddy?”
The young knight startled and began looking around, a frantic light in his eyes. “I think he was… oh gods no!”
Rolf stopped suddenly and leapt up when Khan led an unfamiliar horse in through the garden gate. Draped over the animal’s shoulders, Julius’ limp form dangled bonelessly.
Rolf dashed over and began groping all over the young lord seeking any injuries.
“Stop it sir Rolf, that tickles!” The duke giggled, as he slipped to the ground with effortless grace. “Drat, I was finally winning too!”
A moment later, the laziest cavalry troop ever came ambling through the garden gate. Children, young teens and a gray striped cat woman were draped over the various horses that had formerly been in the stables… as well as Rolf’s team’s mounts.
The duke walked over to a colorful and very complex bracket, lined out in chalk on the pavers. He slowly drew a line through his name, in defeat.
“Well played Nara, well played. When next we meet, I shall be victorious. Wilford has promised to coach me on the finer points of Horsie.” Julius called to the supine feline.
Nara was sprawled upside down up her mount’s neck, using her foot beans to administer an ear massage to the placid animal, while she assumed a pose of utter relaxation.
She twitched once, then exploded into action, leaping from her horse and landing in a graceful three point superhero crouch. “Wilford has yet to defeat me, what chance has a human?” She scoffed, as she draped an arm around the lord’s shoulder. “I like you, Julius… perhaps I will allow you to stroke my ears later.”
“Julius… are you well?” Rolf asked, carefully.
“I’m splendid! Nara and the kids taught me a game! Horsie! Wicked good fun! Do you practice the art?” He enthused. “A gentleman’s game, rarefied and elegant…”
“Julius, where is Susan, she was with you, no?” Rolf scanned the returning equestrian athletes in vain.
“Susan? Such a tyro, she fell out in the first round.” Julius pointed over to a tea rose bush, trained into a shady and mossy bower. Susan was passed out under a blanket, snoring softly, while a horse nibbled at the buds and leaves.
“The best part about Horsie, nobody gets all sweaty, not even the horses! Amy says I can run away and join their band… I think they might be pirates! How fun!”
The giddy nobleman chattered on and on as they went inside.
“I had no idea that inns were so delightfully entertaining. I must have one built…” Julius said happily, while seated at the pianoforte and displaying some serious baroque chops.
“This is an absolute pleasure, I have so little time to practice lately… I think a musical instrument sitting in silence is a subtle tragedy all its own.”
Gary paused and gazed at his guest with a wide and unguarded smile. “This guy gets it… he really gets it…”
Maisie and Able were by the fire with little Franklin, cozy on the couch, with the kids sprawled on the rug around them coloring in conjured books with imaginary markers.
All around, the busy common room things were getting super relaxed and mellow as the afternoon warmed.
Third bell sang out, low and soft in the distance, Gary stretched and grabbed his new friend Jules, pulling him away from the tinkling keys. “Time for lessons and music practice kids. Come on, downstairs, I have to help Jules with some stuff.” He tugged the man downstairs, through an unremarkable door.
It was dim, except where bright lights illuminated benches and odd things. A red haired giant held a tiny hammer and was delicately tapping away at something in one corner, while his host stood among bolts and bales of cloth, holding a measuring tape.
“Welcome to my workshop. Rolf said you needed some clothes, he asked me to hook you up… hold still bro.” The odd fellow quickly measured Julius noting the details on a chalkboard. “What colors do you like? I’m all about green and brown myself.”
As the man worked, the three tiny children got comfy in a small sitting area nearby and began practicing their instruments. Amy had a ukulele, Wilford was on recorder, while Rio had his tiny bongos on his lap, tapping away.
The commoner began whistling as he measured, drew lines in chalk on cloth and began cutting out shapes with a bronze knife.
The discordant, atonal sounds coming from the children soon became a simple swaying folk tune with a catchy beat, pulled into tune and time by the man’s sweet whistling song.
Julius stared all around in wonder, especially at the massive man working so diligently on something tiny and his host, concentrating on his tasks.
Even the children were focused and concentrating, he felt like he was missing something important, a thing just out of sight, but all around him.
“Oh, sorry Jules… You must be feeling it… my gifts get a little weird when I’m working. You’ll feel better if you start working on something too. What’s your craft?”
“...Craft? I don’t really… I did love to draw, as a child.” He murmured shyly. “I haven’t even thought of it in so long…”
“Look over there.” The tailor said, pointing to an easel and sketchbook nearby. Julius was certain there had been no table of chalk, charcoal and paints there a moment ago.
“Go on, I’ll be a little while, have fun.” He went right back to cutting and marking cloth on his worktable.
The music coming from the children never stopped, they just shifted from one song to another, bouncy and upbeat music infected him as he took up a stick of willow charcoal and began sketching the children at play.
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A soft, rhythmic susurrus and clatter joined the music a while later, the tailor was seated at a strange table, pumping a metal paddle back and forth with his feet, as he fed cloth through an iron device.
“Tallum, great work! The prototype is perfect, just gotta mount a sandwich motor in place of the foot treadle.” Gary called to the huge smith. The tailor’s guild would kill to get their hands on this.” He turned to Julius and grinned.
“My buddy Tallum is a talented engineer, I could never figure out how to make a sewing machine.”
“What’s a ‘sewing machine’ some magical construct?” Jules asked in mild confusion, as he finished the last few lines on his work.
Amy, Wilford and Rio were there, in black and shades of gray, every smile and dimple caught in perfect and joyous movement. Even the machine heads on Amy’s uke and the embellishments on the bongos were perfect in every detail, while holding the essence and aura of fantasy in every line.
“Wow, you and Dannyl really need to hang out, come on. Gotta try these on and check the fit.” The tailor led him to a screen that was certainly not there a moment before and shoved him behind it.
Three sets of the curiously comfortable ‘boxer briefs’, a like number of pants and shirts were neatly folded beside a pair of furry slippers shaped like gray striped kitties and a pair of simple leather sandals sat behind the screen, waiting.
Gary had to help with the shirt, but otherwise the fellow managed to dress himself. He stood in his new clothes, swaying his lower body back and forth in happiness. “They don’t pinch or grind my nethers at all… Is this truly how common folk dress?” He asked softly.
The tailor seemed shocked and put out by the question, for some reason. “Uhh, yeah… we ‘common people’ dress this way…” He said, coldly, as the music took a darker turn.
The giant smith’s paw came down on the young tailor’s shoulder, calming him. “Gary, our guest is Tawny’s friend, she said he doesn't get out much and has much to learn about the world… you have that in common, brother.”
“Ok… yeah, he’s cool.” The tailor said, mollified by the big man’s words and touch.
His friends seemed to handle the fellow like an unpredictable animal. ‘That is interesting indeed.’ Julius thought, while still enjoying the sensation of undies that didn’t cinch around his genitals.
“Come on, let’s get upstairs and show off this sketch… Shai is going to lose her mind over it.” Gary handed Julius the drawing pad and pointed the lord at a set of stairs.
“I like this guy!” The mercurial creature sang as his children put away their instruments, by making them vanish mysteriously.
#
“I watched craftspeople at work… real crafters. It was messy and a little dirty and loud!” Julius beamed to Rolf while Shai ‘lost her mind’ over the charcoal drawing of her kids, over by the bar. “I even learned a delightful cheerful song from the children!”
“You may certainly keep that drawing Journeyman Shai, it is nothing compared to your hospitality!” He shouted over the crowd, to the excited and giddy woman.
“I never want to leave this place!” He said quietly to Rolf, while the woman had a joyous dance around the room. “Now I just have to find a way to conceal my escape from…”
“My lord, it is time and past time for you to return to the palace… Whoring in common bordellos is hardly appropriate. First, where can we change you out of those rags?” Philip clapped his hands imperiously, standing in the entrance with two of the anonymous ducal bodyguards.
“Hostler! We require a room.”
#
“Oh, shit, it’s the duke… and he looks pissed.” Gary said, glaring at the small dark haired man in elaborate blue and silver robes.
He stepped forward and confronted the group with a feeble attempt at a respectful bow. “Sorry, sorry that was me in the garden this morning, it was a bit of a cultivation accident your lordliness, I’ll pay for the damages…”
“Why is this peasant speaking in his grace’s presence? Guards, eject this fool.” Phillip snapped. The brown armored guards stepped forward, placing their steel shod boots on the gleaming floorboards with a grinding scrape.
#
The whole inn creaked ominously when their boots hit the floor, the room fell strangely silent, save for the tread of advancing feet.
“I’m trying to be cool, your dukeness… this is a decent house full of good people…” The peasant gabbled, as rage and something more primitive shone in his eyes.
“Guards, punish this fool, roust the whores and shut this place down now.” The man said sharply.
Julius was mumbling something behind him, but Gary wasn’t listening. When the warriors drew cudgels from their belts, he’d had enough.
A guitar appeared in his hands; at the same instant both guards flopped onto their backs, as though their feet had been greased.
The armored men slid back into the foyer like a pair of brown, runaway toboggans. They crashed past the blue robed man and tumbled onto the patio.
Gary strode to the steps down into the foyer, strumming his instrument and singing one of the War cult’s secret victory hymns.
Nahh nahh, nahhaa, nahh,
Hey hey,
good bye!”
He kept playing, more softly as he spoke in a sing-song accent. “I’m new here, your majesty… but I will not be attacked in my house. I rudely intruded on you this morning, now we are even.”
He faced the richly robed man with a calm and strangely quiet manner, while the guards continued to slip and struggle outside. “Now your boys are tearing up my garden as well. See? Even steven.”
“Gary, please calm down, that is not the duke. Julius is the duke…” Tawny said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, while Shai took his other arm and pulled him back inside.
“Common harlots may not use his grace’s name with such familiarity!” Philip barked at Shai and Tawny, coldly furious.
“Wait… Julius? So who’s this asshole?” He demanded, shaking the women off. He stalked forward, while his guitar disappeared in a cloud of mist. “You have some more shit to say bro?”
“Come on, get it all out, any more choice words, before I beat you into the mud?” He was down in the stone paved entrance now, looming over the smaller man.
“Gary!” Shai barked behind him, getting his attention finally. “Dinnae get in a fistfight wi yer children watching, tis unseemly.”
“I won’t hurt you… today. Get outta here before my kids go for a nap.” He whispered harshly to the man, before turning his back and walking away. He flipped a rude gesture at the man. “You are not welcome in my house, be gone.”
A cold, bitter wind blew in off the estuary, tossing the man’s robes violently. It carried the stench of low tide and dead fish, overwhelmingly foul and damp. The ground beneath his slippers became boggy and soft, clutching at his feet.
All around, commoners stood gaping, their clothing unstirred by wind and standing on a firm grassy lawn. The rubes whispered and japed at his plight, even going so far as to point and laugh at his misery.
The guards had already retreated beyond the rude bunting of rag rope, waiting patiently in their wet, muddy armor.
“His grace seems safe and unwilling to depart.” Alex remarked dryly, his voice the only part of him fit to be described so.
Phillip ignored the warrior, turning to a small group of very well dressed men beside the hedge. “Gerard, you are in charge. Go in there, dress his grace properly and bring him out. Do not upset him, do not return without him.”
Gerard gave a bow to his superior and rallied the small troop. “This will be our greatest challenge boys… whatever den of vice and iniquity we are about to face, we will discharge our duties with style, decorum and sober professionalism.”
They hoisted their wicker panniers and marched in to face their fates bravely.
#
The three young valets were at a table with cocoa and cookies, chatting with Dannyl, Becky and Rolf’s groom, William. “...I always feel bad, dressing him like that. He never complained though, poor guy.” Gerard said softly, eyeing his liege lord, being humiliated over by the bar.
#
“Wow, you guys really wear this shit?” Gary held up an under robe embellished with shell beads in all the places one would certainly not want scratchy shell fragments.
“What’s this thing?” He asked, holding up a strange knotted cloth covered with rich embroidery and small jewels. A strand of waxed twine seemed designed to loop around something. Gary put his thumb through the loop and wrapped the thing around his fist.
“Ohh, it’s fancy boxing fist wrap… why only one?”
Julius flushed bright red, having his ceremonial garments spread out on the table, among his new friends, they seemed slightly ridiculous. When he saw what Gary was doing with his heraldic panties, he turned purple with embarrassment.
Rolf leaned over and whispered in the big musician’s ear. “No way… so what the hell is the thumb loop for?”
Liam leaned in from the other side and whispered something as well. “No… No really… No! I don’t buy it.” Gary protested. “Nobody would do that. I ain’t buying it.”
Gary stomped over to the trembling lord and held up his ‘fistwrap’ for examination. “Really, that’s a dickloop? Next you’ll be telling me there’s a bejeweled cockring to go with it.”
Julius turned an unhealthy shade of red that even Tawny had never seen before. Dannyl quickly took a mental sketch of the mind blown lord for later drawing.
The musician unwound the thing from his hand with distaste, examining it with a more careful eye. Gary brought it under a light at the bar, peering closely at the small knot of fabric and cordage. “Really is fine work though… looks kinda…”
With a shout of disgust he threw the thing on the floor. “Gahhh! Shit man! Those things are evil!”
“They are terribly uncomfortable… I’d like to say one gets used to them… that’s what I’ve always been told anyway.” Julius mumbled, shyly from the chair he was trying to vanish into.
“No man, those things are cursed!” He growled, shaking his hand in the air as though it were numb. “Luna, check the royal thong for magic. There’s a binding spell crafted into the embroidery, all the way through. At a glance, it looks like a compulsion…it’s weak, but if that were cinched around something sensitive…”
Luna scoffed, but lifted her eyepatch at the crumpled panties on the floor. “Oh…” She said softly. “Someone should really get rid of that abomination.”
“That’s enough.” Tawny said firmly, putting her arm around the duke. “Your jibes and jokes have gone on enough. Leave poor Julius alone.”
“Yes.” Rolf agreed, stepping up beside his new friend. “Enough is enough, your anti authority attitude is charming at times, but be nice. I wear very similar garments for formal occasions. Once they were required to be worn by the ruler and heir, at all times.”
“Then I should fumble through your panties too, cause those things are legit cursed. Your tailor should probably be under arrest.” Gary said firmly, picking the undies up with a conjured stick and dropping them in one of the valet’s baskets.
“I like you Julius, even though you’re rich and a duke… seriously, bring your tailor in, that’s gotta be treason.” Gary slowly started going over the other garments, tracing the stitches and embroidery. The shell spangled under robe was clean of magic, just itchy and unnecessarily horrible.
The outer robe was also mundane, but super uncomfortable. Rigid and itchy, anyone in it would sweat miserably in the summer, while the costly, cloth of gold would suck all warmth and comfort from the wearer in winter.
The shoes were a real piece of work. With a shout of furious triumph, he spread a cloth over a table and tore the sole off one of the sandals with a bronze bladed tool.
“How about that shit, huh?” He demanded, holding the sole up for inspection.
Elaborate designs had been burned into the inner leather with a hot tool, complex sigils and glyphs covered the thing.
“Look here, this one drains stamina and mana, this one uses that energy to increase the effects of gravity on certain substances, gold in particular. It makes the mundane robe heavier, by a lot.” He grumbled, pointing out the salient details to Ivy and Rolf, who seemed to be the only ones besides Luna, taking him seriously.
“This other glyph is just for inducing pain, using your own mana. Your cobbler is also a dick.”
Tawny looked to Luna, who shrugged and nodded. Rolf was hunched over the soles, glaring at them like they shot his puppy.
“I never suspected. I don’t know why, but I never even looked or wondered why it was all so miserable… Gods, that is the glyph of compliance! it’s been outlawed for six centuries.”
“Rolf! You’re an enchanter? I thought you guys didn’t go in for it.” Gary huffed. “The nobs at the college acted like I was a stupid child, drawing with my own poop whenever it came up.”
“Enchanting is a parlor trick. I am a ritual mage, not some scribbling maker of frivolities!” Rolf barked, reflexively. “Oh, sorry… I don’t know what came over me…” He murmured, abashed and confused.
“Yeah, that tracks too. Where I come from we call it gaslighting. You’ve been conditioned, like Amy’s long luscious locks in Gunnar’s chair; somebody made your brains silky smooth.” Gary said with triumph.
“Now we know why the nobles never figured out what was going on. I don’t even wanna know what the ladies have to wear…” He stopped, looking first confused, then strangely sad. Gary turned his haunted gaze to Tawny.
“Show me your luggage Tawny… now that I’ve seen it I know what I’m looking for… I hear it Tawny, I hear it in your room.”
“You can’t be serious… I’m not parading my underthings into the common room to be…” Tawny fussed, until Ivy took her by the hand and led her away to her room.
They returned a few minutes later with a number of baskets filled with textiles and a few pairs of jeweled slippers.
“Tawny has the same tailor?” Gary asked.
“Yup, cursed undies and shoes.” Ivy said, while Tawny blushed molten bronze. “You boys got off easy with the dickloops, let’s leave it at that, ok?” The tiny mage said, while her own cheeks reddened.
“These garments are not produced locally, they are issued by the council, to all nobles. Technically, all rulers and their heirs are required to wear them on all official business… My house does not, we wear them only for occasions of state… though I think, no longer.”
“I can attest to both undergarment situations being equally disagreeable. I will be going through my own things later. Do we have a disposal solution?” Bannock said, ever calm and practical.
“Box it all up, I’ll take it apart, try and find some clues and salvage some sweet crafting materials while I’m at it. Whoever is behind this is in big trouble.” Gary gathered up Julius’ things, stuffing them back in their baskets.
“Someone is trying to hurt my friends, I’m getting really sick of that. Interview our valets, see what they know, I‘ll get to work on this stuff.” The suddenly businesslike madman declared.
He walked over to collect Tawny’s things, only to have them snatched away by Ivy.
“Nope, I’ll handle this, you tend to the boys.” The tiny mage said firmly. “And I want a cut of that scrap… there’s real silver thread in these things. Government jobs kick ass.” She beamed happily, while taking the magic laundry downstairs for recycling.
“Sweet! Amethyst beads!” Was the last thing they heard from Gary, as the door closed on the pair of occult practitioners.
Bannock, Rolf, Julius and Tawny found themselves in the odd position of receiving pitying stares from commoners, and even indentured orphans.
“I did say I knew who to ask about the regalia…” Rolf muttered lamely.
#