42 - The Pantless Barbarian

Ulmond’s Feasting Hall, Before After Dinner Murder

"So let me get this straight," King Ulmond said to the crowd of people about to murder each other. He narrowed his eyes at Sir Grey. "You've lost the Gauntlet of the One True King. And this man here who is currently taking off his pants—"

"Jonathan!" Petra scolded. "What did we say about wearing your clothes?!"

"—is actually Lovantus?" The king regarded Jonathan with skepticism. "I was going to say that he does look like him, but without the gauntlet... how can you be sure? I mean, I have three king body doubles. Gotta have someone to catch those arrows and be there for those assassins. Either way, it seems to me I have the rare chance to eliminate two of my rivals, find the gauntlet before anyone knows it's missing, and rule two kingdoms."

"Not if I kill him first, and anyone who stands in my way. I have no quarrel with you, Ulmond, but I will not hesitate to defend the gauntlet that is rightfully mine," Sir Grey said, and pulled out his sword. The nobles seated around the table brandished their battle-axes, swords, and all manner of weaponry.

"Seems to me," Ulmond said, "you are outnumbered."

Sir Grey laughed and said, "Have you ever fought a ranger? One of my men—"

"Man, sir," Jenkins said helpfully.

"—can best ten of yours. So, I ask who has the better odds."

"Let's carry the ten...add three for good measure...still us," King Ulmond said.

"That's right! No, I mean, men attack! Kill every last one of them. No survivors."

"Man, sir. Man. It's only one, sir," Corwin said.

"Corwin, not now. Whatever it is can wait..." Sir Grey glanced back towards Jenkins, who waved cheerily. "What happened to all my riders? We had thirty of them."

"You beheaded them, sir," Corwin said.

"Surely, a few, here and there. I mean, how else are you going to keep them in line, but all of them?"

"Well, there was the ones at the village, sure, and don't forget the scouts."

"Five at most."

"Then we caught up to the decoy zombies."

"Oh, the decoy zombies, I totally forgot about that. Still, thirty of them..."

"Then the clunkwoodlings..."

"Oh, yes, nasty creatures, a bit smelly."

"Then there was the brainstorming session at the gate. Don't forget about the deserter."

"I mean, thirty men. You figure thirty rangers would get the job done. They are the most elite soldiers in the entire kingdom, but no, they can't catch a feebleminded fool who doesn't even have his power gauntlet. I'll never hear the end of this. Should have brought sixty. How was I to know that twenty-nine men would be so incompetent?"

"Thirty now, sir," Corwin said. "You beheaded Jenkins while you were talking to yourself, sir."

Sir Grey gazed at his bloody sword. Jenkins's head rolled to a stop near Corwin's feet. It was uncanny. Sir Grey vaguely remembered doing it. It was just like the old saying goes – time flies when you are having fun. Now it would be nice to soak his sword in the blood of his enemies for a change.

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"No matter," Sir Grey said, brandishing his sword high. "To the death, men, er, man, I mean, squire and warlock! To the death!"

***

Sir Grey charged. The warlock sucked fire from the hearth with a song, and her hands ignited into flame. Petra used the distraction to back away with Jonathan. Tim followed her and said, "We don't have any weapons."

Annelise tore open the giant bell-shaped bottom of her dress. Inside, she had stashed Tim's crossbow, morning star, a couple of daggers, and Jonathan's battle axe. Petra pulled the battle axe and tossed it toward her son. "It's okay to swing that around now."

Jonathan's eyes lit up, and the pantless warrior spun around the room swinging the battle axe, knocking down guards and nobles of the king's court. Two women with sabers were about to run Petra through, but the halfling deflected the first's blow and stabbed the other in the throat. Tim took out a guard with the crossbow in one hand and knocked another down with the morning star in the other. He reloaded with a flick of the wrist. The kid actually seemed confident and was able to ease into his body's abilities. Annelise chanted, and her dagger began to glow. She fired a green bolt at a noble charging toward her.

***

On the other side of the battle, Corwin did not follow his master or the warlock into the fray. From the looks of it, they didn't need his help. The warlock lobbed fireballs and spewed jets of flame at anyone who got close. Sir Grey was a guard-killing machine and tore his way through several men before facing King Ulmond.

Instead, Corwin used the distraction to cut loose the bonds of Lady Ameria. Once she was free, he said, "Go save your lover. The bonds of true love are more important than any of this."

Lady Ameria didn't say a word but turned her horse around and galloped out of the room. When Corwin cut the Paladin free next, he yelled, "Great, just great! Way to go, Jack. Is it too late to pick a new prom king?"

Corwin wasted no time and cut the elf's bonds next. No sooner did he cut the last rope when the warlock tossed a jet of fire towards them. The elf channeled the fire from the torches with a strange song and created a barrier just in time to protect them from being incinerated, but not quickly enough to prevent them from being blown back to the other side of the room. The warlock blasted the barrier away, and soon the elf and the woman were engaged in hurling spells back and forth at each other.

The entire room was engaged in a melee battle. Sir Grey and King Ulmond squared off, and Lovantus twirled around the room with his battle axe, clobbering the nobles and soldiers alike. Sorsha dodged between people while slitting throats, and Bolt and Percy eventually found themselves back-to-back fighting off adversaries. The princess withered people into husks with green bolts of energy and a discordant song.

The only person who wasn't in a fight for their life was Corwin. He took in the battle with a calm that could only be attained by avoiding getting one's head chopped off. Either King Ulmond would kill his master, or his master would kill Ulmond. Either way, he planned to be long gone from the squiring business and had decided to act on that chicken farm. He had never raised a chicken but imagined that his armor and sword could buy him a few. Maybe even a whole farm.

There were plenty of villagers who'd be willing to give up their life to go seek fame and adventure on the open road. It was all ridiculous. If a person were to ask him. People like Lovantus didn't come around very often. After seeing the guy's fighting style, which involved giggling and twirling around a battle axe, Corwin couldn't even understand how the guy had become famous.

He concluded that it was all luck, and there were much better odds of living out an entire life if he stuck to chickens over glory-seeking. Either way, he'd be happy to part ways with his armor, something he had thought was the greatest honor of his life when it was bestowed upon him. He was about to sneak out of the raging melee when he noticed another one of his cousins standing at the entrance to the door dressed in a Helfran guard's uniform.

"Darwin?" Corwin said.

"Corwin!" Darwin responded. "I thought you looked familiar. What are you doing here?"

"Sir Grey is my master."

"King Ulmond, here."

"Tell me, Darwin, does Ulmond behead people when he gets mad at them?"

"All the time. Killed a man the other day. Beat him at Mario Kart . Everyone knows you always let him win. Sometimes you take a turtle for the team."

"Sir Grey is the same way! He killed a guy for following his orders. Struck him stone dead."

"Nobles, eh? You make the tea too hot, and they kill ya. You make it too cold, and they kill ya. You can never win."

"Makes you want to take up chicken farming."

"You know, I was just thinking the other day, it'd be nice to start my own—hello, what have we here? Who are you? This is the king's private chamber, so it makes it the king's private brawl."

A man with mangy black hair stepped into the room. He had filthy, tattered clothes, and there was something hollow about his eyes. The man turned to Darwin and hissed. Fangs grew from his mouth and claws from his hands. Darwin screamed, and the creature attacked, tearing the guard limb from limb.

Corwin decided that he'd better not push his luck, backed away into the corridor, and ran as fast as he could while the vampire shredded its target.

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