Ch: 224 Jesters Do Oft Prove Prophets.
Rolf Belen, sworn and belted knight of Order at fifteen, was the youngest full knight in generations. He’d been successful as leader of his own warband of indentured Adventurers for a year now, at sixteen. So he was unsure why he felt so… unsure. He was suffering something he’d heard of, but never encountered before; a crisis of confidence.
“If you use this pollen, you will not dream… but that is only avoiding the problem. Your sleep will remain troubled until you either accept or reject what you have been offered.” Tawny said firmly, in her private chambers. Over her ever present tea set, she passed him a small gourd of fae dust.
“As a member of Healer’s clergy, I am neutral on this matter and can give no further guidance… Perhaps Becky might advise you?”
“So I come to my sister, the healer, for advice on these strange new gods… and you tell me to ask the head of one of their strange new cults?” He asked in disbelief.
“Becky is very wise and clever, regardless of your opinion of her gods. I have struggled with issues such as these myself, as you may recall. My first suggestion would be to talk to Thirp…”
Rolf sighed and deflated a little, sinking down in his seat. “Angie suggested the same.” He mumbled.
“See? I told you she was clever.” Tawny’s self satisfied smirk lit up the room.
“You really are the most awful woman.” Her brother grumbled on his way out.
#
Gary gave the others plenty of space; down in the workshop he had lots going on. He sulked and grumbled with a set of pincers in hand, sorting through the remains of the broken instruments for scrap metal and salvageable parts.
Pulling the bronze frets from his broken shamisen hurt, but it had twanged its last. He had a replacement on the bench, it was slowly coming together. He added one last tuning machine to his bin of scrounged goodies and started clearing away what was left.
Mostly firewood and torn hides, a few scraps of mother of pearl… the sad mass grave of his little instrument collection. He wandered out to the hidden third pool to send them floating away into nothingness, it felt better in private.
He sent his shadow friends out to get frisky, now that some old business was finished.
Getting the last of that dark day cleared out felt better; like fresh air and sunshine, after a long boring class. “Spring is a time for making new things…” He murmured happily, shaking off the last of his funk, with a little of P-funk’s funk.
When the bass groove washed over him, he grabbed a block of wax and a set of sculpting tools. “Sometimes the answer is right there in your hand…”
#
Gary came up kinda late, Shai was already upstairs, waiting for him… “Tardy, ye are… cabin boy. I’ll nae tolerate such frae me lowly underlings!” She landed a stinging swat on his rump that curled his toes.
“Forgive me captain… I was distracted!” He groveled… unconvincingly.
#
Down in the common room, Nick and Rolf were playing cards with Liam and Tallum, when the instruments on the wall began to rattle and thrum quietly.
“Earthquake?” Nick asked, sounding frightened and excited at the same time.
“Not exactly… Gary has really improved his control, but sometimes it still happens… Must be the old slap and tickle.” Dannyl muttered happily.
“Haughty captain and the lazy cabin boy, more likely. Wait for the drum…” Liam remarked around his pipestem. “There it is… he won’t be sitting easy at breakfast, I’ll wager.”
“Degenerates…” Rolf muttered sourly.
“They are not in the cult of Order, Rolf. Nor have they any aspirations to knighthood, so please withhold your judgments.” Liam answered tartly.
“As for his kinks… Gary spent years in agony, trapped in a crippled, half dead body. I doubt a spanked bottom holds any terrors for him; it’s just good clean fun. If such banter bothers you, we can refrain.” Without further comment, Liam dealt another hand.
#
In bed, Rolf left his gourd of pollen unopened, as he lay back with a sigh. Angie hadn’t appeared in the dream world the night before… The spider had suggested she might have been too exhausted and fallen into normal sleep.
Talking to spiders in a madman’s ‘Secret Moon Base’ was stressful enough…
Rolf landed with a gentle lurch, in the ring of standing stones. He looked around in mild confusion… he always appeared in the house, since that first time… was it only a few days ago? He shook his head to clear the fog and looked around at the verdant meadow and vibrantly colored standing stones. No humans were in view, just Eponna’s herd, gamboling around.
The horse goddess herself came trotting over, blowing steam and exotic vapors from her nostrils. She tossed the starry nebula that was her mane and gave a soft, whinnying laugh.
“Come to embrace me?” She asked, stamping her hooves in a complex equine dance. “I have not had a unicorn knight in my herd for so long… and with a newly remade ‘corn as well!”
Rolf held up his palms in polite denial. “Apologies, lady Eponna… I’ve come for advice and to talk.”
She chuffed at him and turned away, flicking her tail in his face to display her annoyance. “Ducky… he wants to do that human thing… where they jabber on and on, then make the wrong decision.” She called into the herd.
“Hey!” Rolf protested weakly. “That was a little hurtful.” She was already gone sweeping off into the distance, like wind waves on a field of grain.
“My sweet ‘Pona is a pony of action, young Rolf.” Marduk said calmly, seated on the rough hewn coffin in the center of the ring. He kicked his childlike feet a few times and hopped down onto golden sandals, doing a happy little heel and toe dance as he landed.
“Shai showed me that one… so much fun.”
“You want advice and can’t seem to find anyone trustworthy to ask, right?” The tiny god asked with a bright smile. “I can’t be trusted, ‘cause I’m one of the scary ‘new gods’, Healer won’t make a decision, the spirits and Joy are on my side…” He smiled widely.
“So why haven't you asked Order? Your own patron, three times over, I might add.”
“I have. He declines to respond.” He grumbled softly. “All I get is a profound sense of unease when I’m near Gary… Not as though he has any ill intent, more like he is an unstable bridge, thus I must step very carefully.”
“He is an unstable bridge… and we have been using him heavily… mercilessly even.” He said gently. “Consider this when you deal with him going forward. If a man drove his mule beyond its endurance in your sight, lashing it bloody until it fell, would you intervene?”
“Certainly! That is a crime!” Rolf answered sharply.
“Then why, dear boy, are you laying the whip so fiercely against your own haunches?” The deity asked, lifting one golden, perfect eyebrow just enough to make his point, no more, no less.
“Are you saying I should… make love to Angie?” He asked, lost in a strange conversation with a blonde child older than some mountain ranges.
“No… well, yes, you should pummel that girl into mush… but I mean you should get your Contracts and soul properly arranged. Order will release your two faulty Contracts if you demand it. War… we are working on him, cranky bastard.”
“No, lord Marduk… I simply seek advice…” Rolf held up his hands and backed away.
“Oh… Gary said that if you showed up again it would be for Contracts… You are more than ready!” He mumbled unhappily. “No pressure, we are eternal.”
“Are you though? You seem… nearly as unhinged as he.” Rolf faltered when Marduk locked eyes with him for just a moment.
“I was there when your people discovered agriculture, when they first went from chasing wildlife and became… more.” He whispered. “When they ‘discovered’ the written word and the power it holds, who do you think guided that first stylus into the wet clay, dredged from mighty Tigris?”
He moved closer, still whispering.
“Alexandria rose, my first great success… and one of many tragic setbacks. Do men still remember Alexandria? The vast aisles of scrolls and manuscripts… the scent of papyrus and vellum.” A sense of the truly, unfathomably ancient fell over him, pulling at the edges where his mortal form and soul intersected.
Without warning, the pressure faded away, leaving Rolf gasping for breath. “What you felt was your sanity eroding, just a little. Your friend and mine, he feels the full force of my gaze… and those of so many others, all the hours of the day and night. So cut him some slack on the ‘madman’ talk.”
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“Yes, lord Marduk.” Rolf mumbled.
“So you want advice, it’s not about Contracts, I already busted your balls about making my boy feel bad… Did I mention you should ‘Plow Her Fertile Crescent’?” He asked, eyebrows bobbing in a way that made his far too obscure reference, clear to the young lord.
“You did make certain improper suggestions, Sirrah.” He said with a tone.
“Are you getting snippy with me? Good boy! Order likes the obedient and chaste… I’ve decided to go another way with my worshipers… I predict some familial strife in the pantheon!” He chirped happily as they walked, hand in hand.
Rolf startled when he realized he was holding hands with the child god; just like he did when walking with Gary and Shai’s kids. “Relax, Rolf… You will be mine… someday. Or your children will. You and Angie are so adorably nerdy!”
“Oh, gods… What am I in for?” He mumbled as the deity pulled him into Gary’s crazy house… well, his other crazy house.
The moment he came through the door, Angie flew into his arms, warm, solid and very real. “Oh, thank you lord Marduk.”
#
Gary woke with a slightly sore bottom and a very contented looking Shai, snoozing away. He slipped away downstairs and had a soak before sunrise, thinking on that willow. It was big, really big… He would need to get creative for this one and would need a lot of help…
Rolf woke for his predawn workout and sensed something was off… Over at the enormous tree the madm… Gary had come to harvest, something moved in the crown. It was him, high up in the tree using a small bronze saw to remove branches, fronds and all. He would cut one free and the trailing fronds would all vanish, leaving a bare spot.
“Hey Rolf… don’t mind me. Dryad willow leaves, bark and fronds are best harvested by moonlight with bronze tools… and with her permission, unless you want to die.” He prattled on and on.
“The dryad of this tree wants you to cut it down, to make her a ‘sweet robot body’ to ‘cruise around with the meat monkeys’...” Rolf said calmly, in an attempt to understand this odd being.
“No, the dryad Willow is every willow tree, everywhere. She wants me to cut this one down, cause it’s at the end of its life and she wants to become a mech pilot… never should have let her read my manga collection…”
Rolf held his head and winced, as he tried to follow that.
“And you’re collecting components for your witchcraft?” He asked with a smug smile, once the disorientation and dizziness faded. “I would learn of this art.”
“Ohh, a student of the craft huh? Cause that’s what it is, just arts and crafts.” He sang happily among the leaves; leaping about nimbly and sipping off limbs and branches.
“These fronds, when dried in the dark and woven by moonlight might make a basket capable of catching moonlight in liquid form… or maybe a nice fruitbasket, that never gets moldy or draws gnats?” He was getting more excited, waving his saw to punctuate his words.
“An underwear hamper that always has your favorite shorts clean and pressed? Sure, why not?! This is a fucking magical world Rolf. You cunts are living like you never heard of magic…”
Gary, calm down…” Rolf half whispered and half shouted to his friend in the tree by moonlight. “I feel pretty silly, out here talking to you like this!”
“Why?” The musician asked, pitching his voice in an odd way, making it soft, but carrying little more volume than a whisper. “No one is here to see, the house is soundproof, so we won’t disturb anyone… run around naked and bark at the moon if you want to.”
“What about your tree friend… she would see.” He grumbled, feeling petulant and cranky.
“Willow would tell you if she could… dryads are all freakin voyeurs. Think about it… people are forever making out and getting it on under shady bowers and woodland groves… doing the do in the garden arbor, ‘neath the spreading boughs…” He grinned a wide, mad smile from the treetop.
“They get off on it and have for generations of humans untold… literally, from the beginning. We started out under their trees, humping away in a fruit fueled, sugar high orgy.”
“Gross Gary… really gross.” Becky said from the porch, knuckling her eyes sleepily. “I promised Angie I’d work out with Rolf… so he doesn’t slack off…”
“You are all slacking off…” Liam said calmly, as he strolled into the garden with a towel around his shoulders. Luna came trotting in right behind, with Khan and Tallum wheezing along at the end.
“Where’s Ivy?” Gary asked… and immediately yelped in alarm, when Ivy appeared from the treetops, sailing into the willow from an alder nearby.
“Ivy took the high road!” She sang happily. “I figured out brachiation and slowfall!” She landed lightly on the bare upper reaches of the willow.
“Sweet! How’s the duration?” He gabbled at her, making no sense.
“Meh, the Mana consumption isn’t high for brachiating, but dangling and slowfall really gobble it up. Skill and practice will make all the difference… if you don’t slowfall much, a healthy iron ranker could maybe… half an hour… an hour with practice.”
“What’s it like?” Gary asked hungrily. “I wanna try it…”
“No!” Ivy barked, snatching her shiny bone and abalone bracelets out of his reach.
“Shai made me promise...” Ivy stuck her tongue out at him and jumped off the treetop. Her spell didn’t slow her a lot; just enough that she could grab a handful of fronds and swing to the ground with a graceful spin on the landing. “...for some reason she likes your face like that, no smashing it up on the trees!”
“Thanks Ives… maybe you should do your own laundry for a week? Hmm?” He asked in a sing-song way. “You wouldn’t want a hideous troll like me feeling your underthings…” He was making a creepy grabby hands gesture, still balanced on a bare treetop in the waning moonlight.
“Gary, you’re my tailor, you made all my underthings… and outerthings.” She said with a flat and mocking expression on her face.
Even though they were obviously jesting with each other… It was kinda spooky. “He’s just weird.” Rolf muttered to himself. Liam and Ivy, the fitness nuts, took Rolf and Becky on a run, following the course the others had already run.
Shai and Tawny whipped a protesting Gary along, chasing him with braided willow carpet beaters and laughing merrily… “Hey! Did you tell her about the naughty cabin boy?” Gary complained, when Tawny playfully swatted his rump with her wand of springy greenery as they trotted back inside.
“Everybody knows, Gary!” Tawny laughed and laughed, the evil wretch. “You still make the instruments rattle when Shai swats your fanny.”
“Nobody told me?” He demanded, deeply aggrieved. “Nobody?”
“Well I dinnae ken, since I did hae ye o’er me lap at the time… plying me captain’s hat.” Shai said with a poorly concealed giggle.
“It’s a subtle effect, very minor… and hilarious.” Khan added helpfully.
“Oh yes, tickles me every time!” Luna agreed.
“When it happens, I just try to remember that I love you both, even though you are disgusting.” Becky said calmly.
“Ixnay on the ankingspay” Gary mumbled. “The kids are waking up.”
“I have no idea what you said… weirdo.” Becky stammered in wonder. “I’ve never felt that before…”
“Wait… Pig Latin doesn’t translate?” He murmured in confusion, while Amy and the boys stumbled downstairs with Dannyl.
#
It took the full day to take the willow down, it was so wide, to finally fell it, they had to pull it over with a block and tackle. The lines ran from Moonrise’s big capstan to a huge piece of masonry nearby.
When the trunk fell, having already been stripped of all its boughs, the earth shook from the impact. Gary had seemingly thought of everything, cables hooked to the trunk and dragged it on conjured rollers to the sawmill.
The massive blade and enormous rolling log carriage let them rough cut it into manageable sections in just a few hours work. With a huge sense of accomplishment, the enormous beams slid into a summoned magical kiln, to slowly season and dry.
“Ugh, bath, bed, sleep.” Gary grumbled as he made his way inside.
Shai was waiting for him when he finally made it upstairs. She perched on the edge of the bed, wearing a white schoolgirl button down and a very brief pleated skirt… with long socks. Her conservative white shirt was almost unbuttoned and knotted in some ways that the dress code would certainly frown on.
“I did reckon ye were tired…” She stretched languidly, displaying her bare midriff and a delightful measure of thigh, below her short pleated skirt. “ye kin admonish yer wayward crewlass another night…”
“As you wish, dread pirate Shai.” He whispered, before pouncing on the tender morsel dangling before a hungry perv.
#
Becky and the kids were camping out with auntie Annie again. In the clean, fresh air of the stable, beside the gigantic horsie. “Gary and Shai have been under a lot of stress… we need to give them some space.” She tucked all three in their bunk and snuggled in at the end, just how she liked it.
The massive horse came over and tucked her in, with her big warm nose. Goodnight kisses from Annie were the best.
#
Breakfast was cheesy biscuits and scrambled colossal swan eggs, served up by Liam and Tawny. Neither had much in the way of cooking skills, but Shai, Ivy and Dannyl kept the deep freeze stocked with easy and quick things, like trays of cheesy biscuits, speckled with black pepper and brushed with melted butter.
“Gary has a ton of work to do… so we’re taking Seahorse out exploring!” Becky announced, while the poor boy was still munching on the last of his biscuit.
“Hey…” He mumbled through the crumbs. “I like ‘splorin too!”
“Well, you better get to work then. We’ll be back for lunch.” Becky smiled charmingly, with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Shai’s coming with… so you can stay on task. Willow wants results.”
“Awww…” He mumbled long and sad.
“I’ll stay with you, Gary.” Tallum said soberly. “Just don’t get handsy in the workshop… My tushie is Ivy’s.”
“I hate all of you buttholes.” He sighed happily.
#
With Adam and his Ascots out patrol riding, Tawny’s team away and ‘on strike’ and Rolf gone along with them for reasons of his own, things were pretty quiet at the ducal palace. Most of the visiting nobles had gone home, the council was in recess and only a few matters needed attending… primarily a messenger from duke Wen of Port Jakkara.
“Yes, you can and should tell your master exactly where I said he should stick his demand. If duke Siong Wen wants a strike team he can request one…” He leaned forward in his official audience chamber, looming over the taller man. How Belen managed that trick was one of his deepest secrets.
At two inches below average height, duke Belen loomed over very few adults; he made it work when it counted, through some strange method.
“My daughter’s team is unavailable to him. At any price and for any reason.” Duke Belen told the quaking messenger. “Return with my reply… or if you fear his response, stay here and take my service. In either case I doubt your master will be pleased. His temper is well known.”
“I have a wife and daughter… back in Jongrae.” The messenger murmured softly.
“In that case, our business is done.” Belen said with a casual wave and a smile. He dusted his robes off vigorously when he rose, jostling his pockets noisily.
A gold mark flipped lazily through the air and landed at the man’s feet. “Oh, dear… I have a hole in my purse… oh well. I hope whoever finds that coin can improve his lot in life with it…”
The duke stretched, shook the folds of his robes of office loose once more. “Down at the dock you may find an old sailor working on a long white boat… Barney, captain of Kingfisher is his name… He might be up for a sail to Jongrae and back, with a few passengers and their household goods. I will send a scathing reply to your former lord in a week… by guild messenger.”
“My lord…” The man gasped, as the duke ambled out the door.
“Gods, I love doing that…” He murmured, once back in the ducal quarters. “Celeste, duke Wen is going to be furious!” He giggled happily. “I just poached another warrior!”
“Leo…” She grumbled.
“He’s too cheap to use the messenger’s guild, so he keeps sending his retainers… I can’t help it if he’s a shitty employer.” Leo smiled and bounced into his favorite chair, the one beside his desk, so he could look at his plump ledgers with all that sweet, black ink; without feeling like he needed to do any actual work.
“Gods you are insufferable when I’m pregnant…” She murmured, as she climbed into his lap.
“Well, if you would stop luring me out behind the hay barn…” He nuzzled her collarbones and had a quick fumble at her boobs, so that she would giggle and wiggle in the way he liked.
“Lecher! I’m a duchess of the realm, not some woebegone milkmaid on one of your wanton and lustful journeys of vice… I wonder if there even are any monsters out ther…” Her scolding tone was too breathy and excited, so he went for the kill.
When his broad, firm hand cupped her bottom and his other arm snaked around her shoulders she knew it was all over for her.
“Well then… I’ll have to make it up to the duchess… How would her grace prefer to receive my dutiful tribute?” He asked, while carrying her to bed.
“Hmm, best bring it round back, I suspect it will be a large delivery.” She whispered into his ear with a naughty giggle.
#
Seahorse slipped up the turbulent waterway with a good amount of bouncing and surging up and down. It took Becky a few minutes to get settled in with a slow, steady acceleration, cutting the river’s current, rather than skipping over the surface. Shai sat at the bow with the kids, under one of Gary’s tartan waterproof cloaks, all smiles and giggles.
Trees and meadows lined the river, still largely inside its man made channel. Stands of fruit trees gone wild, the occasional foundation and lonely stone walls showed this had once been orchards and vineyards, running all the way up the valley sides.
On the not too distant elevations, collapsed homes and barns appeared here and there. The grape, berry and other vines had run wild for generations, resulting in scattered, impenetrable thickets of tough, woody branches and thorns.
They encountered more locks, usually just a few tilting stone walls at the edge of a reedy pond or bog where a side channel entered or exited. They all were entirely silted up, overgrown to impassibility or too narrow and turbulent for their craft.
The river seemed to change character every mile or two, dashing past rocky, tumbled boulder strewn banks and tributaries, or meandering slowly, through wide, marshy lakes.
“Smoke ahead!” Dannyl called, pointing out a thin streamer of gray, drifting up from behind the trees, up round the next bend. They slowed as they navigated a wide, sandy curve, staying on the steep walled cliff side, where the water ran deepest.
A small rough hewn cabin stood on a small rise near the river, back at the treeline. A gateless lock with only one wall standing was the only other sign of habitation, despite the curl of smoke rising from the chimney.
As they watched the cabin pass by, a bear wandered out of the structure, holding a steaming mug in his paw.
“Hello! I’ve been waiting for you!” Maer, ‘The Bear’ of the Stonesmiths called to the little boat. “Moor up, the coffee’s ready!”
#