Ch:279 And The Law… Won?
Bleachers and grandstands had been assembled all around the four square courtyards of the temple quarter. Healer, Joy, Order and War all faced in from the four compass points, each with its wide paved court. In the center stood Secret’s shrine, with Gary’s ass depicted in loving homage across every surface of the obelisk. A fitting venue if ever there was one.
People crowded the stands, with even more spilling into the makeshift carnival of sweets, treats and beverage carts run by a band of very enterprising orphans in the formerly quiet side streets of the bureaucratic quarter. Midsummer was still a day away, so this was pre, pre festival festivities.
“I doubt he’ll show, we should just send a troop to collect him straight away…” Helene of War muttered from the high benches. Clerics in their robes of office filled the stone seats of judgment at the head of the courtyard. Two dozen clerics, drawn from War, Order, Joy, Healer and Craft sat mostly silent, largely anonymous in their robes and veils.
As if cued by her complaint, a loud, strident noise shattered the stillness. From the common viewing areas all around the temple quadrangle, a steady snare drumbeat began to crisply rattle and tap across the crowd.
That was joined by a muted cowbell, ticking a rock solid beat into the crowd. Irresistibly steady and simple, the sound of toes softly tapping followed shortly, accompanied by a droning bass line playing around in a simple, childish, swaying melody.
Dah dah dah… Na na na nana nana
“Oh, goodie!” Gabbie whispered excitedly, from the nearby diplomatic section. “I’ve heard he can be unpredictable when stressed! I really wanted to witness one of these!”
Cloaked and hooded forms could be seen scattered throughout the common stands, holding instruments and producing the strange, simple music.
“There is dark magic in this music, my empress…” Jocomo whispered. “We should get you to safety.”
“This is Gary’s magic.” She snipped. “I know you fear and distrust him. So do I, but Becky and Shai swear he is not evil.” She whispered fiercely. “As I trust them, I will trust him. Now sit down beside me, it’s my turn to be boss.” She sniffed. “You can order me around tonight…”
“As you will, my empress.” He whispered huskily in her ear. “Until tonight.”
Guess who’s back…
Back again…
A chorus of voices began droning in the bass register. From each of the dozens of cowled shadow figures scattered in the crowd, the chant rose, repeating on the beat.
“Gary Ward. Reveal yourself before this court or suffer arrest and censure!” Tony’s magically amplified voice cut into the mix, only to join the flow, bending and shaping his words to the beat...
You need to surrender to justice,
And trust in the process….
Tony snapped his visor down crisply when he realized he’d fallen into the trap… but he kept spitting fresh bars anyway.
Your magic rattles my nerves like hardliquor
Come on out so this thing ends quicker!
I think it’s those trees you’ve been cultivating,
I smoked too many, now I’m partici-pating!
“Gods damn it, Gary! I have a job to do here!” With a physical effort, Tony broke free and barked into the crowd… Only to realize that the fool was standing right there in front of the judicial benches, with one of his idiotic shadow clowns beside him.
Gary wore unrelieved black, from shiny shoes and snug pants to his jacket of glossy leather. He was topped by a round black cap of worm skin and a fearsome black bat mask… sensible attire, if oddly fashioned… He was a foreigner after all. His companion was less… just less.
He wore all skin tight shiny silks in yellow, red, green and orange. His face was partially concealed by a black domino mask of shiny satin, no doubt some foreign tradition. On his breast, a round badge bearing his ‘treble clef’ insignia was his only adornment… aside from his ridiculous red satin cape.
Numerous objections arose, when the clown stepped forward and spoke.
My trailer park girls went by the way side, by the way side,
My trailer park girls went by the way side, by the way side,
My lady said no and I gotta comply!
There was a hasty, whispered conference among the gathered figures on the judicial benches, While the fool japed and jested on and on, in tightly phrased, rhyming couplets and triplets.
The dancing fool of a shadow clown pranced and played to the crowd, gesturing to his silent, black clad master and making absurd claims, in a taunting childish voice.
He’s a visionary, his rhythm is scary,
Wanderin’ through the dreamlands,
Freakin’ with fairies!
A-tisket a-tasket, War got his ass kicked!
He came in talkin this shit, that shit,
He’s lyin’ in my crater waitin’ for a casket!
Your buddy in gray, I saw him the other day,
He came to my inn, started waggin’ his chin
You wanna give me Orders?
Get served a punch in the hors d'oeuvres!
Order, he crossed my border and caught a little,
If you don’t want a nutpunch, call it down the middle…
Remember I had my hands on you,
And you don’t know how Gary do…
“Gary Ward! Silence in court!” Tony yelled at top volume. That shut down his antics… for a moment… The beat went on. “The panel has ruled. While there is no law prohibiting, shadow ghost advocates… the judges will not entertain this foolishness. Dismiss you specter and address this court!”
“This…” The man in black said calmly, in a voice that rang out softly from each hooded figure, filling the square, from Healer’s golden door to Joy’s multi color fastness of whimsey.
“This is not a court. This is a performance, to drape a veil of propriety and the law, over the pantheon’s petty revenge. Your shameful and weak behavior will be your own burdens to bear.” He smiled fiercely under his mask and bowed to the clergy, in mockery of good manners.
“I only see a few of the local cults represented here… No shaman of the spirits… I can’t help but notice that Knowledge, Thirp and Secret are not represented… Nor Eponna…”
“Secret has no priests, anymore.” The anonnymous head cleric declared with satisfaction. “...as for the unrecognized cults and the simple spirits.”
The white robed figure sniffed disdainfully, drawing some mutters from the commons.
“This court has appointed Otho of Joy as your advocate. Count yourself fortunate he remains amenable to serving in that role.” The anonymous leader of the veiled clerics announced firmly from behind his veil of white.
“I don’t recognise the cult you represent… priest.” He barked.
“In this court, you will address me as simply Justice. I will remain impartial and am a member of no cult, while in this role.” He barked right back. “Speak with respect and decorum or face censure.”
“I was hanging out with Justice recently… She has the most amazing thing she does with her tongue…” He remarked casually. “You are not her… She wouldn’t be caught dead in a veil… She knows what she’s working with… total smokeshow.”
“Silence!” ‘Justice’ bellowed.
“Nahh… been silent for centuries, nobody could hear me scream. Done with that. Speak your accusation for the people to hear.” He sang happily in the judge’s face, with a shining, brilliant white smile.
Meanwhile his colorful counterpart continued to prance, dance and strike dramatic poses as the dark clad figure slowly took control of the crowd one shaken booty at a time. Slowly each watcher became a cog in his mighty groove engine.
“Enough.” The judge snapped. “Mages, do your duty.”
A subtle sensation of loss washed over the gathered crowd, draining some of the vibrancy from the world’s colors. The shadowed figures faded and shimmered, falling back into the feet of the random people they’d sprung from.
The clerics sat and waited patiently for the shadow fool to dissolve, yet he remained stubbornly present.
“My client is ready to address you cowards, since you insist.” The black clad man snarled at the clerics. “Gary, go on.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
The colorful fool with his underwear on the outside grinned and stepped to the front. “Nice magical barrier… polarizing and diffusing the light to break my shadow constructs… very tidy, Amicus.” He called into the crowd in the noble’s section.
“Sorry Gary… Orders!” The old mage called back. “I have faith in you!”
“Yeah, well I had a whole Slim Shady homage set up and you ruined it.” He called back in annoyance, which annoyed the judges.
He turned back to the robed figures and glared at them from behind his silly mask.
“Go on… make your case. Ward and I are ready to listen… mostly.”
“Gary Ward, you stand accused of blasphemy before War, accused by that deity himself through his high priest, Anglin of War.” ‘Justice’ barked, indicating old Anglin seated nearby and un-veiled.
“Your own ridiculous song and antics before this court are sufficient, however, to rule immediately…”
He turned to Anglin. “This court releases your strictures and compulsion to testify, general Anglin. We remain troubled that you had to be compelled.”
The old man snorted, stood without a word and left the witness box, to join the common crowd.
“Well, before we get to the lynching part of today’s celebration, I should probably mount my defense.” Ward said with another brilliant smile, despite the light and shadow damping magic flooding the area.
“By all means, if you have a defense, make it. You stand convicted by our own blasphemous song.” The nameless cleric in white sat back smugly behind his robe and waited for the fool to hang himself. Oddly enough, he’d brought his own rope.
With quick and sure moves, he strolled in a circle, placing a series of small wooden tripods in a ring, strung with a thin braid of spider silk cord.
Plaques, buttons, tablets, sutras carved in ancient tusks and tiny silver bells decorated the strand, forming a perfect circle around a little ceramic crock, like apothecaries sell cosmetics in.
“I’m going to call a witness… a hostile witness. Super hostile.” A slow tremor ran through the crowd as whispers of ‘Witchcraft’ and ‘Demons’ shivered down one spine after another.
“Gary Ward, summoning a demon to this court…”
“Fuck you Tony… you know me. I’m calling the one who started this stupid distraction, I’m finishing it here and now. Don’t try to rush me… your boy is already in my power.” He pointed to the circle, where a deep red mist was swirling in place, trapped within the cordage and trinkets.
“Tell him, War.” He snapped with a terrifying smile on his face. “Speak your name, War. Address this court, by my thrice repeated command, War.
“I am War, bloodwashed god of strife and conflict…” He whispered into the crowd. “Impossible! This cannot be!” A voice shouted from all around, from the lips of each and every red robed figure in the temple quarter, and a number of those in common clothes as well. Each cultist of war whispered a tiny fraction of the deity’s voice, creating a slow rolling rumbling speech.
“Nice effect…” Gary murmured happily. “Now War, summoned with your own divine flesh, before your worshipers, on the steps of your very temple… and bound in my power… What cause do you have to call me a blasphemer?”
“Is this very act not enough?” Something that refused to manifest visibly demanded harshly.
“You invaded my home, cast me out, forced the severance of a Contract you had no part in and got your face pushed in by my brother for your trouble.” Gary snapped at the irate god.
“I summoned you here with your own brain matter, scraped from beneath his fingernails… after he punched your bitch ass inside out.”
With a soft rattle, every War cultist in the area slapped hands to their many and varied weapons and glared at the fool in undisguised rage.
“Don’t be hasty now War… remember who you’re dealing with. I can END you, here and now. I’m not Ward, my brother… my touch is death to immortals.”
“You cannot! Morrigan severed you, as did Secret! That power died, as you too should have!” He wailed, in terror.
“They all feel your fear, your nearly animal dread and trouser soiling terror of my shadow… You feel it, lurking. The Devourer of Souls, awaits… just out of sight.” He whispered in a voice that came from all around, as his shadows stepped into the central court, in their legions.
No one moved for a long, terrible moment, save the silent, drifting shades, swarming to their master’s feet and vanishing away.
“Look up, look up and see the limitless engine of creation… you could join us, spinning through the cosmos… today a man, tomorrow a woman…” He whispered gleefully.
“…In your next life, maybe you’ll be a crystal jellyfish drifting around a green and verdant sea of gemstone corals… you could be anything, eventually you will have been everything.” He sighed in a breathy, gentle whisper that no one could avoid hearing.
“That is true immortality; beautiful, painful, filled with sorrow and joy. My touch is a gift to the weary among you, exhausted by timeless endless drifting. I offer it freely to any immortal who wishes it…”
Slowly his encircling shadows stopped sinking away and began to sway and dance in concentric circles, spinning in rings of shadow dancers, twirling in contrary directions without ever colliding.
Their instruments reappeared, resuming the music that had fallen silent when the barrier raised. The chorus began again, chanting in the background.
Well I'm back, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na
Gary’s back… back again…
“End these proceedings, stop fucking around and get on board. Or, I will stop asking you whether you want to join the mortal realm and just drag you here… screaming.” He snapped at the cloud in his circle. “If I didn’t need your help with the rest of this mess…” He snarled.
“You cunts keep getting off easy, cause I need you… it’s getting old and I’m getting frustrated and a little reckless. Stop tempting me.”
“This cannot be… Secret has no cult, no priests… We severed them all so very long ago…” He sighed.
“It must be a lie, or all this was for naught… This cannot be…”
“I am the high priest of Secrets… I am the keeper of the gate and holder of forbidden knowledge… in this place I am your god, War.” Gary barked harshly, in frigid, glacial tones of uncontained rage. “I am the god of Murder, in this little circle of hell you’ve landed in.”
“Secret severed you…” He whispered helplessly.
“I made a new one. That’s what I do now. I slay garbage immortals and replace them with shiny new immortals…” Gary nodded to the man in black, with the smile so bright it hurt a little to look at.
“Like my new buddy Ward, demigod of Secrets and Death; executioner of Ipet, true goddess of Justice.”
Ward removed his hideous bat mask, revealing his supernaturally handsome face, above that smile. He leaned on the obelisk of Secrets and patted a plump Gary derriere.
“Welcome to my party, dailies and mentlegen; it’s a crazy happening.” He announced with a smile. “I’ll be your local death god for the duration of this reality… Gary here is still high priest, under the new management.” He smiled wide at the crowd of stunned, silent onlookers.
“Two words to think about before I go back to the veil… Jazz Funerals.”
His words were still echoing when he slowly faded away from the temple quarter…
Leaving a massive golden fig tree wrapped around and entangling the obelisk, nearly consuming the limestone and marble monument to Gary’s ass.
The ass-bearer himself reached up into the tangled branches and plucked a huge, fat bellied golden fig. He held the uncomfortably skin toned fruit up to admire its subtle shading. From pale pink near the top, to a soft, velvety, tanned backside hue around the puckered pink orifice at the bottom. It was very clearly a butt, it even had a subtle crease…
“Fruit of a gallows tree… To eat it is to be mortal… snack wisely fellow mortals.” He sang happily to the stunned clergy. “Hey War, want a taste?” He asked, through a mouthful of the very meaty colored fruit. “It’s delicious!”
When no answer was forthcoming he smiled up at the judges, looming over the imprisoned deity with a hungry predatory smile.
“My brother hasn’t crossed over an immortal yet… War can be the first, if you want to push me. I will tear it all down, before I’ll let you enslave my friends and my children. Any questions?”
“Do you think that you can blackmail the pantheon, orphan? ” Helene of War demanded archly, drawing every gaze in the audience, including War’s near panicked attention. “We will not submit to tactics like…”
A red robed figure seated nearby on the judicial bench lashed out with sudden and impressive violence. The wet sounding ‘SLAP’ of a crisply delivered backhand echoed across the ward, as Helene did a graceful backflip over her seat and landed in an undignified and humiliating heap behind the judges’ panel.
“This court now lacks a quorum, charges dismissed, no further action will be taken.” The white robed ‘Justice’ barked quickly, as titters and giggles began in the commons.
With a wave, Gary dismissed the red vapor of War from his magical circle… which crumbled to scorched and scattered ash as the entity vanished.
“Ooo, that was a close call.” Gary muttered happily, as a small army of red clad figures glared at him.
“You don’t want to try me.”
It turns out, they didn’t. Neither was he any more popular with War’s clerics… or really anybody’s. If the looks he was getting from them were any measure, most of the major cults were deeply unhappy with his continued existence.
Rank and file warriors were a bit of a mixed bag. Those bound to War who found it unpalatable, were more likely to be friendly still. Other War cultists took it upon themselves to make their displeasure known.
“Kiss my ass, sir Heinrich! And for fuck’s sake clean up after your horse!” He yelled at a knight of War, who swerved his mount into Gary’s path to unload a pile, just outside the city gate. “These were new sandals!”
#
“I knew going in I was going to have to let War carry on… for a while. We need him and his sworn cult.” Gary grumbled in Shai’s arms.
“It still sucks, letting him get away with it though. He all but admitted he was involved in cutting Knowledge out, way back when.”
“An… Ward… be he truly…” Shai swallowed the chalky film that suddenly manifested in her throat. “Death?” She gasped.
“Oh. Yeah.” Gary mumbled happily, as he pulled a flask of icy cold water from his storage for her. “He’s legit the god of Death now; and Vengeance… and Golden Figs, oddly enough.”
He sighed happily and sprawled on the lawn in the sunshine.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
#
Gary quickly found that whatever goodwill he’d developed in the town had evaporated by afternoon. The stream of people visiting his baths and gardens dwindled to a trickle of real friends and a few thrill seekers. It quickly became a pattern that young local doofs would challenge their rivals to splash into the ‘haunted pool’ and then flee the garden. Reluctantly he tightened his wards up, to preclude stupid pranks as well as those with ill intent.
“This sucks… business is dead, I keep getting the stink eye from folks and it’s too quiet…” He complained bitterly in bed that night. “I’m back to being ‘that scary witch’...”
“This will pass lad. Sleep an dream, we hae troubles enough.” She sighed.
“Yeah, I’ve already cooked War’s goose…” Gary whispered, only half awake. “He’s gonna be super pissed when he figures it out.”
#
Ducky was waiting here when they landed in bed. Seated nearby and looking impatient and upset.
“Gary, that was a dangerous, foolish and absolutely deranged display… I regret giving Ward what remained of my Secret portfolio now!”
“Don’t scold me right now buddy, I’m pretty upset and a little irrational.” He whispered to the deity. “I’m not ready to be… whatever we’re going to be to each other yet.” He got out of bed and stalked off, leaving Shai with her god.
“He hae a point.” She muttered as she hugged the sobbing immortal close.
#
“So, you’re a male dryad and a demigod?” Becky asked carefully.
“Every dryad is a demigoddess… Each of my lovely ladies is an immortal and the essence of her trees, in every world that they’ve grown...” Ward sighed happily. “I feel them, in so many places and realms… Fig gave me the Golden Fig as my first portfolio, which is what started me on Death and Shadow, through Xyll.” He said with a blinding white smile for the dark shadowy bat, roosting in his arms.
“In order to become the full goddess of Justice, Ipet had to let go of her Vengeance portfolio. That came with just a little bit of Death and Punishment. Light gave me a little piece of Secret and a whole pile of Shadow they weren’t using. I collected the rest of Secrets from Thirp and Ducky, which left me holding all of Secrets, Death, Shadow and Vengeance… and some Fig… that’s all mine.” He kissed the wide bottomed, smiling girl holding his hand and gave her a squeeze.
“A gift freely given…” She purred happily in his arms, with a booty wiggle that made his smile even wider.
“Gary… come join us…” Fig called. “Where is your sexy ironmonger?”
“Upstairs… with lord Marduk.” He answered in a very neutral tone.
“Oh… He really…” Becky murmured softly. “Come on Gary, off with me! We’re gonna play with the kids and Lilith down by the shore.”
“Ooo!” He gasped in simple delight, his mood shifting in an instant. “Race ya!”
Shai watched them from the upstairs window, as her family dashed for the trail down to the beach with a sad smile on her face. “He is nae nearly so whole as he pretends…” She whispered to her tiny god. “He wept ‘ere sleep took him… wept fer the loss of thee.”
“It’s not my fault…” He mumbled. “I didn’t have the power to deny them.”
“Fault be nae in this. He knows ye had nae choice… Save that ye did say nothing… an made no apology nor overtures.” She whispered. “Those choices ye did make, an all willingly too.”
“I’m a god… we don’t do… any of those things.” He mumbled unhappily and stared at his golden sandals.
“Are ye his friend though? Fer those are things friends do. He calls thee brother in his heart yet.” She hugged Marduk briefly, then followed her mate down the trail, to join the family by the seaside, while Marduk stared out the window, lost in thought.
#
The day before midsummer dawned… poorly. Low clouds and light misting rain foretold a wet and soggy day, perhaps longer. Unseasonable in the extreme, the slow damp system never developed into anything even vaguely stormlike. Instead it was a moist clinging pall on the town. Gary stalked the streets in a colorful plaid cloak that shed the rain and kept him dry, as he wandered all over town on his errands.
At the orphanage he doled out cloaks like his own, in bright checks and patterns, all watertight, and small packets of coins along with satchels of small objects to be delivered all over town. When word got out he needed delivery runners the orphans came through like champs… even on a wet and dismal day. Paying a bonus helped too.
All over town, folks answered their doors and received a small box containing a blunt ended steel coil spring, entwined through a carved wooden treble clef, bound with a gold and white ribbon.
“Really…” Old man Shraefer mumbled, when he answered the door. “Wedding invitation love… Gary and Shai, tomorrow. Kin we go? I haven’t seen those kids since…”
“Since spring festival, when you did this terrible thing to me?” She asked, resting her hands atop the faint swelling above her apron. “Wretched old goat, I had a quiet decade or two planned… and now this.” She cooed warmly in his ear, as they watched his scarecrow slowly spin and twirl in the breeze.
#
“I quite fancy a midsummer wedding…” Otho remarked. “It’s completely illegal and would probably draw the ire of the cults of Order and War… ordinarily.” He mumbled happily across the luncheon table. “I’m certain they won’t risk it this time.”
“We can’t attend… We are both clerics, we can’t lend our approval to this farce.” Naiomi replied sternly. “We’ll have to be disguised. I’ll dress as Otho of Joy, You be Naiomi of healer!” She suggested a moment later.
“The perfect crime!” Otho cheered.
#