Ch: 219 No More; The Text Is Foolish

“You were very calm… under the circumstances, Gary.” Rolf said approvingly from the sofa by the fire.

“Yes, I agree.” Angie piped up, lost somewhere among the throw blankets around the young knight. “I thought there would be trouble for sure.”

“Me? Trouble? I’m the very soul of generosity and good grace.” The mad boy’s guileless smile was a thing of careful craft and obvious ill intent. “We should follow him discreetly and watch the show!”

“Gods, did you… poison that man?” Rolf demanded, turning pale and rising to chase the fellow down.

“No… I would never! Poison indeed.” Gary huffed and sputtered, deeply offended and showing it. “If we’re lucky, the ass of his pants might blow out, his tailor does shoddy work.”

The madman would say no more, he stood and wandered out across the bridge, with Rolf, Angie, Shai and Luna trailing after in the evening light. “I wish more of the gang was here to watch…” He whispered, as they crossed the gate market and entered the main market square, the bustling heart of commerce in town.

“I can’t create stuff here, but it’s still inside my area of influence… let’s wait for the right moment.” Gary’s whisper was tense with restrained excitement and glee, as he watched the man walk briskly through the crowds.

The man they followed strode resolutely up to Tony’s office and went inside. A few minutes later, both men emerged, speaking intently.

“Are you certain of this course of action?” Tony asked.

“Absolutely, and your advice about the eclairs was only half right. They were very inconsistent in quality.” Hertz said, smiling in victory.

“Really… and you just came from there?” The two men were walking through the central square, right by the busy fountain when Tony spotted Gary and his small cluster of giggling ne’er-do-wells.

The big knight made eye contact with the smirking musician, who bobbed his eyebrows and began counting down on his fingers from five.

Tony stepped a few discrete steps back from Hertz, who half turned to see where the knight was going…

#

Hertz paused by the fountain in the busy square, when the knight, sir Dunham stepped away. He turned to ask what was going on, when he felt a stirring behind his belt buckle. Something ominous moved in the depths of him, sending tremors through his insides. ‘Perhaps fried river carp was a poor choice for lunch.’ He thought, as his guts were gripped in the fist of a malicious giant.

With a thunder clap that stung his buttcheeks and a low, sputtering roar, the back of Hertz’ pants became a ragged, unwholesome nightmare of terrible things…

“Perhaps I should hear your complaint another time, journeyman Hertz.” Tony asked drily, while the man was still standing there, in shock and wondering what had just happened in his shorts.

#

“I might have gone too far…” Gary confessed later, down in the workshop. “But he said Otho and Tony both recommended the eclair.”

“The man befouled himself in the public square, Gary… He won’t forget that.” Angie protested gently. “You should apologize and maybe bring him some new clothes. That was really mean.”

“Maybe… First, let’s see if he comes back to try and set the law on us again.” He grumbled. “How does that play out, Rolf?”

The young knight frowned thoughtfully for a few minutes. “While I am somewhat familiar with your… case? Petition? Whatever it is you are trying to do… I have kept at arms length from the matter, since you are my sister’s…” He shrugged again.

“Let’s say I’m her friend… and yours.” Gary shot Rolf with double finger guns and clicked his cheek at the young knight.

“Indeed, thus it would be inappropriate for me to involve myself in your case.” Rolf answered finally.

“Hey… did you just lawyer me?” Gary demanded hotly.

“I don’t know what that is, but probably?”

“Aye, that be what he means. Thirp hae been trying tae explain how law works where he does come from… tis very strange.” Shai muttered. “Though, some of the words be high minded an filled wi wisdom.” She sat back and stroked her throat in the way Gary always found way too distracting.

“All men be created equal, endowed wi inalienable rights tae speak, tae travel an be free… that be laudable an wise.” She murmured.

“Yeah, we always had a good handle on the big picture… we sucked at living up to those ideals, pretty much all the time.” The madman said with a sad smile.

“Oh! Like your lovely statue poem, from the feast of Secrets!” Tawny sang from the pianoforte bench. “Bring me your tired, your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free…”

“Where I come from, the law says everybody is free and can’t be forced to do things against their will, except in limited circumstances… We have all these ‘rights’. When the government, a person or an organization wants to force a person to do something the courts get involved.” Gary said with increasing venom in his voice.

“A ‘Lawyer’ is a professional advocate, whose job and training are in the law…” He explained, finally.

“Ohh, so like the cult of Order. No citizen can be compelled or deprived of property without legal process and an advocate is appointed from the clergy, usually Order.” Rolf murmured happily, glad to finally understand what his new friend was saying.

“That’s the stuff, except lawyers are hired, like mercenaries and their guild credo is to do anything for their clients that does not actually break the law… with zero morality or accountability, beyond their own guild rules, in absolute secrecy.” He sounded exhausted and more world weary than a man his age had any right to feel.

“Wait… so what happens if two people go to court and both of them hire these ‘lawyers’? They contest with each other for their disparate clients… for money?” Angie asked. “Like gladiators, fighting with notepads and pens?”

“Really Gary,” Rolf chuckled. “...that is just too fanciful, nothing could ever get accomplished that way, one party would just hire two lawyers and probably win by virtue of having more money or influence…” The young knight paused for a moment, thinking.

“What if someone has no money to hire a ‘lawyer’ to defend themselves from a claim?”

“Then they are doomed, right or wrong, it doesn't matter. Where I come from, you only have the rights you can afford to hire a lawyer to defend… everything else is up for grabs.” He sighed.

“Just like here, the first in line gets all the gravy, slopped onto their already well sauced plate.”

“That’s not how it works here Gary, no citizen can be deprived of their property or liberty without…” Rolf stopped talking when Gary glared at him furiously. “What…?”

“Dude, I’m slated to be eternally Contracted at the soul to entities chosen by someone else and sold as a slave, for the crime of…” He checked an imaginary notepad briefly. “Here it is, ‘parents aren’t alive’… that’s funny, I don’t remember when that became a crime.” He shrugged and waited for a reply from the young knight, he received only a confused glare in reply.

“Now I’m going to bed, again.” He grabbed Shai around her waist with a merry jingle and started hauling her upstairs. “I’ve been a good boy… I really have!”

“Aye lad, ye hae… now shush.” Angie and Rolf watched the two lovers gently maul and paw all over each other, as they went upstairs.

“That looks fun.” Rolf whispered, nudging her with his shoulder and blasting her in the face with his dangerous golden dimples.

“Wow… it’s like your cheeks have extradimensional dimple storage… is that a Contract gift?” Angie asked, when she had recovered somewhat.

“Let’s retire to our little alcove and explore that idea.” He whispered, giving her another peek at his formidable cheek weapons.

Angie huffed at him, pulled to a stop and very carefully put her foot up on a chair to adjust her slipper… exposing a long, slender, pale leg that was too compelling to ignore.

Rolf felt his face flush coppery bright and smelt hot copper in his nostrils. He wiped his upper lip and came away with a small smear of blood on his hand. “Is your nose bleeding sir Rolf? You look flushed…” Angie’s smile was wide and wicked, while she slowly rearranged her skirts. “Sit down I’ll fetch some tea.”

#

Getting Rolf planted in their little alcove was just the beginning… Angie chuckled wickedly as she prepared the tea things. She dabbed a tiny drop of Becky’s wonderful smelling oil behind her ears and brushed the remnants from her fingertips on the upper swell of her breasts, just as instructed.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

She was riding to war, tonight would be an important battle, she had to level the odds, or maybe tip them in her favor. Nothing could be left to chance, replying with her leg after he used those dimples was a proportional and measured response.

#

Rolf wiped his face and took a few deep, cleansing breaths, once she was gone; taking most of that intoxicating feeling with her… mostly. He had a plan, a strategy to gain her trust and ease just a little closer to victory… He had maneuvered her into the little bay window they shared and was in position to strike!

He carefully loosened his garments just enough. Getting comfortable and relaxing into a calm, alert state was critical before any contest of arms or Will.

He reaffirmed his determination, while she was away, mentally chastising himself as she approached, bearing a tea tray.

‘I will not touch her inappropriately, I will not attempt to steal her favors… I will remain calm and chaste… I will… oh gods, what is that perfume?’ His mental chastisement was not working, not even a little.

Within a few minutes he was in her thrall, sitting close and hoping desperately for the next casual, intimate touch of her hand on his forearm.

When her skirts hitched up and parted, exposing her bare knee, he placed his hand on it very carefully, with his heart caught between his teeth, lest it escape and fly away. Her small hand landed atop his, gently as a fallen leaf, when her fingers curled around his meaty hand, he almost passed out.

“Rolf! You seem very worn and flushed, I should put you to bed…” She used her ‘nurse Angie’ persona, forceful and bustling. “Into your room, Shai set out some traditional sleep attire for you.” She shoved him into his room and closed the door softly behind.

Within minutes, he was wearing some strange pants of smooth, soft cotton in pale blue, with wide white stripes. They hung low on his hips, tied with a cord and were very loose and comfy. There seemed to be no upper portion, just pants. He shrugged and began washing his face before bed in the basin behind the door.

#

She emerged from her chamber, wearing a very long and voluminous shirt of the same cut and colors, pale blue and white vertical stripes. Her shirt had a simple band collar and four big buttons, closing it from her sternum to throat, two were undone and the third seemed a little loose in its buttonhole. The garment ended just above her knees, loosely flowing as she walked across the hall and slipped into Rolf’s room.

#

“You used the pajama meet-cute on them? That’s dirty pool Shai! I wondered why you wanted a set of men’s pjs in Rolf’s size.” Gary, Shai and Thirp were lounging by the beach in the dream world, while the kids and Esperanza’s crew played pirates in the bay.

“Yer old movies hae surprising depths tae them lad, dinnae mistake it!” She murmured in his ear. He was still shaky and weak from his reward for being good for so long… Shai was pretty noodly too, She’d also been very good.

#

“Shai had Gary make these strange clothes for you… but you really only need the bottoms… don’t you?” Angie asked, standing directly behind him, as he washed his face at the basin.

“Apprentice Angie!” He squeaked in surprise, when her fingertips caressed his broad, golden back.

“Relax, I said I would put you to bed… Just need to tuck you in…” She murmured, standing so close that her warmth, gentle touches and voice soothed him on an animal level.

With visions of a good night kiss from this girl sending sparks through his brain; Rolf noticed too late, when she ‘tucked him in’ with her own slender form. She pressed close against his back, draping a leg and an arm over him carelessly. “Ahhh, there.” She whispered, into the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck.

Her arm, draped lazily over his flank drew closer, as she tucked her fingertips into the waistband of his very low slung trews. Fingertips that gently wandered over every contour of his hip and lower abdomen, exploring right up to the edge of the curly thatch around his…

“Angie…” He whispered urgently, desperately. “Please…”

“Silly boy, you are exhausted and worn out… rest, I’ll take care of you.” She left her hand there, palm cupping his navel and fingertips just barely lingering at the ‘edge of the woods’. “No wandering hands, sir Rolf… I’m not wearing anything under your shirt.” Angie kissed the curve of his throat from behind, taking a tiny nibble as she did. “Sleep now.”

She lay awake a good part of the night, enjoying her gentle explorations of every inch of him she allowed herself, while he pretended to sleep.

He lay there on his side, struggling to convince her and himself that he was not about to spontaneously combust. Finally, she took his shoulder and gently began rolling him over on his back. “You can’t sleep all balled up like that, sir Rolf… relax, roll over.”

“I… I can’t, apprentice Angie.” He muttered, gently resisting her attempt.

“Hush, silly, I want to curl up on your chest. Play fair!” She pouted prettily and gently tugged at his shoulder.

“I really can’t.” He muttered again.

“Oh, are you having another cramp? Do you need me to rub it out?” She was already burrowing under the blankets, searching all around, while studiously avoiding the obvious issue with rolling onto his back.

Swift, clever fingers kneaded his calves, thighs, low back and even his buttocks, she massaged and caressed his hips right up to, but not into, ‘the forbidden woods’.

Before long, Rolf was laid out flat, with her head pillowed on his chest, those perfect pink lips gently kissing his dark brown nipple, purely by accident of course. Those exploring fingers were back, patrolling the borders of his greatly diminished personal territory, threatening further gentle encroachments.

Her gaze rested on the nicely lofted tent in the bedding, rising from a single pole.

“Silly boy… I told you I wouldn’t seize the prize. You must give it to me… when you surrender…”

She giggled and squeezed in closer, somehow. “A knight always gives the victor his sword, when he has been defeated… in stories, anyway.”

#

In Grace’s chambers, Jules snuggled up closer to her and his hand slowly slipped under her brief nightie, stroking a slim, smooth hip, gently. She patted his hand away with a giggle and snuggled in closer.

“I was stabbed so recently… I couldn’t possibly have my insides invaded again… yet.” She whispered sharply.

“I don’t want you to see my ugly scar, but perhaps I should address whatever growth is sprouting under those blankets!”

He caught a glimpse of long pale legs and a shapely backside, clad in pink, lacy… somethings, before she vanished under the covers. Things got pretty distracting then.

“Oh…!” Was all Julius Rummel, young warrior duke of Port Clement, managed to gasp before she was upon him.

#

Angie woke in Rolf’s arms, comfy, cozy, utterly relaxed and her virtue completely unblemished. This was shaping up to be quite a battle.

Shai grumbled happily as Angie and Becky hugged at breakfast. The girl had flopped down on her seat and smiled, chattering away with a very haggard, but happy looking, golden blonde lump of muscle sitting beside her.

Shai had seen Rolf in the bath on a number of occasions, there was no way Angie would be sitting pretty, if the battle was won.

“War, war never changes…” She muttered softly, as she began formulating their next move.

#

The whole troupe, kids included, headed to Fargnie’s pad in the uplands, outside town at sunrise. He was enjoying the fancy kind of ‘outside town’, with vast, landscaped grounds surrounding his palatial, sprawling home.

Tony met them at the uplands gate and walked along with his three squires.

“My squires are under instruction to not interact with you. Please don’t be offended when they refuse to speak with, or assist you. Their task is to secure the site while you work and to observe, impartially. Please respect these strictures.”

He looked at Gary particularly.

“Please do not make this difficult for them, no matter how much fun it might seem.”

“Awwww.” The lunatic whined merrily. His jovial attitude ended quickly, as they neared the house. “I feel it… someone did necromantic blood magic…” He whispered softly, shooting a look at Tony.

“The main house is clean… the problems are in the family wing, the servants wing and the basements… and attics… some of the cupboards and closets… crawlspaces… the garret rooms are troubling as well.” He trailed off and sighed. “It’s a lot, but the main house is pretty much normal.”

Angie, Rolf and Dannyl had the little ones in a front parlor, working on their lessons after a long, chaotic break for ‘Adventure stuff’.

“We’re ‘Venturers… why do we gotta learn math?” This was a familiar refrain from Amy. She was good with numbers… when she felt like they mattered.

“Gary says music is numbers, endless strings of numbers…” Dannyl mused, while strumming something mellow and soft.

Gary closed the door on the happy little scene beside the elaborately carved marble fireplace. And nodded in satisfaction when one of Tony’s silent, chain mailed squires stationed himself by the door.

“I expected some fuss from you over posting a guard and having observers along…” Tony mumbled happily.

“Meh, Angie has Rolf wrapped around her fingers… and Dannyl will absolutely wreck your boy if he tries to get smart with my kids.” He said with a grin.

“As for observers… good luck figuring out my tricks, I still don’t know what most of them do.”

“Somehow I doubt that, my friend.” Tony said with a grin.

“Dude, you and Addie should come by some night and check out my other house. Meet a couple gods or spirits and have a good look around… Then you’ll understand. I’m a mess!”

“Speaking of messes… we should start where lord Fragnahagn did, in the old library.” Tony led the way into the family wing and down a long corridor.

Everything started out tidy and clean, then dust and spiderwebs began to gather. With every step they went, they traveled months or years back into the dust of the past. It piled in corners, waved from webs and floated in the air after they passed.

“Feather dust… does Fargnie keep birds?” Gary hacked to clear his throat and made a face. “His cleaning staff need a stern talking to… ohhh.”

In the reading room, three small, feathered, female bodies lay where they fell; heads bashed in, just inside the door. A strange looking amalgam of man and rat lay nearby, with a black glass dagger jammed through his ear canal, also quite dead. So too was the elderly woman in a maid’s uniform tied across the makeshift sacrificial altar, with her heart cut out. It was a reading desk…

Other things began to ring bells in his memory as well; a ring of human tallow candles, wax and chalk inscriptions on the floor and walls… inscriptions that spelled out a very familiar name.

“These cunts were trying to summon my old buddy Sluggy… too bad nobody’s home anymore. His name is vacant and empty now.”

“They kept knocking.” Liam said coldly from over in a side chamber. Two more bodies lay there, both elderly and both in servant’s livery of house Fargnahagn, with their hearts cut out. They had simply been dumped in the small servants pantry, after being nibbled on extensively. Presumably by the harpies and wererat.

“Yeah, that’s the same spells and ritual, down to the reading desk… these guys suck so hard.” Gary grumbled, as the tour continued.

In a crawlspace under Fargnie’s own bed, heaps of incense ash, small animal skeletons, wax ends and charcoal nubs were heaped up in every corner. Spells and curses were scrawled, painted, smeared, inscribed and splattered on every surface, several layers deep in places.

“Gross… It would be easier to burn the house down than cleanse this mess…” Gary looked hopefully at Tony.

“No, I won’t allow you to burn down his home.” The big knight answered coldly.

“Aww, I’ll deduct the damages from my bill…”

“Just how much were you planning to bill him?” Tony demanded gently.

“Arson is expensive…if he wants me to clean this shit, it would still be cheaper to burn the house down. I’m not cleaning his house, Tony. Did I mention arson? It feels like you just glossed over that idea.”

“Don’t burn down his home… please Gary.” Tony seemed smaller now, like he had shrunk a little with each new revelation and dark scene.

“In that case, we are done here. The lord of the manor has been regularly bewitched and cursed for at least fifteen years… probably longer, it’s hard to tell.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “I guess they were ready to pull something nasty in from the outside. They wanted to summon a demon to destroy Wheatford, used Fargnie’s servants as sacrifices. They failed to call their demon.”

“Why did it fail? Is there some method we can use to confound these spells?” Tony asked excitedly. “I do not relish battling skulking forms in the night and ritual magics.”

“There’s a fool proof method to stop a demon summoning. Somebody just has to find a way to keep the demon from answering the call.” Gary said with a smile that seemed rather self satisfied and predatory.

“How does one do that?” Tony mumbled.

“My friend Figaro found one way… I don’t think Fargnie could manage Figgie’s method, not enough balls. I have my own ways of dealing with the undying and immortal.”

“And they are…?” Tony asked, hanging on to a long, expectant silence for a while.

“Gary ate that slug demon, pooped it out alive and then murdered it with a bag of salt.” Becky offered helpfully. “It was really gross.”

“Thank’s Becky, I was just gonna be all darkly mysterious… let’s go get the kids.” They all marched home by the start of fourth bell and tried to settle back into their lives. Gary, Shai and Tallum were in the workshop, Angie Becky and the kids were at music lessons with Amadeus and Cab…

#

“How exactly does one eat a slug demon?” Rolf asked quietly, after lunch.

“Gary will try to eat anything that tries to eat him… it’s kinda his thing.” Becky said with a grin. “The slug gave him eldritch diarrhea! He really enjoys it when I tell that part of the story.”

“No, I hate it Becks, you shrill little wretch.” Gary grumbled. “Sometimes, when I burp, even now…”

“Wow, nasty.” Becky smiled and wriggled in with Rolf and Angie, crowding those two together nicely. “How many immortals is that now?”

Gary frowned in deep thought. “Let’s see… Skrigg, Victor, Sluggy, Bonehead… Lord numbnuts the pickled prick doesn’t count, but Wicklow and Figaro gotta give me partial credit… four and a half immortals?”

“Psst, the dullahan…” Becky hissed softly.

“Oh, yeah, call it five, that’s a pretty good record for killing immortals!” Gary yawned and stretched happily.

“Some of the pantheon conspired to make me a god killing, spiritual murder hobo… Naptime?”

#