Novels2Search

6 - Mort must be Fat

While Frank was trying to figure out how the hell to convince these people that this donkey named Clive was the hero meant to save them, Dave finally gathered enough strength to move.

Dave spoke up from amongst the ritual members while sitting on the floor, “The God of Destiny also told me that this is our hero, his name is Clive. We should respect and help him lest we all perish together as the hero rises we rise as the hero falls we fall. No doubt you saw what happened to Quin?”

Everyone unconsciously nodded their heads in response remembering the shock of seeing someone's head just get destroyed in the blink of the eye isn’t something you soon forget.

“That is the hero's gift of Strength, most likely Clive here is the strongest person…. er donkey… uh well he is the strongest being in the world. This is one of the gifts he has received, the second is he has increased intelligence from a normal donkey, only since I uhm.. Unfortunately made a mistake of not following the Ritual to the letter” Dave glanced down at his missing legs no doubt the cost of his mistake, “thus Clive did not receive the full benefit right away and his personality has to adjust so he will be especially hard to read over the next few days as his spirit catches up with his mind but rest assured he will become the greatest of heroes such is his Destiny.”

“Now that's fine and dandy Priest Dave, but I am still not convinced, besides what happened to Quin it just looks like a normal donkey to me and there is more than one Mage that can blow someone's head off it just takes time to set up which you would no doubt have considering this ritual circle took 3 months to draw.” quipped Mort.

Mort, who wore one of the yellow armors, was an average height, middle aged man who always forewent a helmet showing off his red bushy bearded face. Clive thought to himself, “ This Mort must be quite fat, his face does not match his skinny armor at all I bet he has to be stuffed into there”

This caused Frank to chuckle to himself. Mort was one of the yellow corps. They were in charge of intelligence throughout the kingdom and this job took a heavy toll on his once jolly personality. Having seen the dark sides of the kingdom, read the horrible information reports from all over the kingdom he grew to be quite cynical and distrusting over the years, always fearful of some of the things he had read about happening to himself. Mort was actually definitely fatter than his armor made him out to be, somehow or another he convinced a mage to make this magic armor shrink him down so he could pick up women. But the double chin and big red beard full of crumbs, usually put them off before he ever got close enough to ask for a date.

“Hold on a minute Mort, if there was signs of a Mage’s magic I would have surely felt it along with Frank here” Spoke King Anthor

“Forgive me your majesty I just find this absurd that after all we have gone through to get these items for the ritual we are given this dum…..” Mort paused and looked at Clive who raised up on his back legs smashing his legs back down causing a crater in the floor. Mort gulped and continued, “uh excuse me.. That we were given Clive here as our only hope”

“Clive here at least right now may not seem like a hero however with Frank’s help” Dave looked over at Frank with an apologetic look seemingly knowing Frank was very unwilling to go along with Clive “the hero shall rise and we shall be saved to enjoy peace!”

“Fine let's say that's right, how about you humor me. Frank, you turn around and face me, your Majesty if you would be so kind as to write a number on this cloth here. If Clive here can tell Frank what the number his Majesty holds up is and it's correct 5 times I will believe you two. Agreed?”

King Anthor, Dave, and Frank all responded “Agreed”

King Anthor wrote the first number and held it up.

Clive spoke to Frank, “You know, you guys didn’t ask me so you can fuck off I am not telling you”

Frank frowned and looked at Mort and Dave, “Clive he.. Uhm.. Doesn’t want to answer”

Mort looked at him suspiciously. “It's just a simple task I am sure any hero could do this.”

Dave chimed in, “Clive if you humor ole Mort here we will give you a snack. The God of Destiny told me one of your favorites was carrots and I just so happen to have one here. Dianne, If you would please grab the carrot out of my satchel over by the base of that tree” Said Dave pointing towards a lantern lit tree.”

Dianna, one of the church's followers, quickly went and fetched 3 carrots.

Clives eyed those carrots, he hadn’t eaten during this whole mess since he was at the barn earlier in the day and Dave was correct carrots were one of his favorite foods he rarely got them back on the farm.

Clive glanced at Frank and then straight back to the carrots, “I guess I could do it but I need some water too.”

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Frank reached behind his cloak, grabbed and opened the old leather water pouch on his belt and shook it, so Clive could hear the liquid inside.

“You’ll get this and the carrots only after you do this for ole Mort.”

Clive slightly annoyed, stomped his hoof and replied, “Fine, only 5 times anymore and I am kicking Mort and you.”

Frank turned back to Dave and Mort, “Thanks Dave, Mort Clive is willing but only 5 times.”

King Anthor wrote a new number and held it up.

Clive, still staring at the carrots, glanced at the number and spoke to Frank, “you all are lucky I can even read numbers. First on is 15, the same number of people I am sure took to get Mort into his armor this morning, seriously how did he fit into that thing, actually how the hell can he move at all?”

Frank smirked trying to hold back a chuckle, “This damn donkey is going to be the death of me” Thought Frank.

First number is 15. Mort nodded towards the king.

King Anthor raised the next number.

Clive glanced at the new number, “99 the number of fucks I don’t give about this hero business.”

“99” Frank replied.

Mort nodded his head, King Anthor changed the number and raised it up.

Clive glanced at the sign and back to the carrots… Then back to the sign for a second then the carrot.

“Uh Frank was it? This guy you call king is playing with you, he drew a chicken”

Frank tilted his head confused, “You sure that’s right?”

“I have eyes don’t I this dude really drew a chicken, it's kind of a shitty drawing though I had to look twice and really stare to figure out what the hell it was” Clive replied

Frank wasn’t sure what was going, sighing he thought “I guess I just have to trust in the damn donkey”

“Clive said it's not a number, it's a chicken.” Frank couldn’t help but look over at the King.

The King really drew a chicken instead of a number. Frank exhaled a breath of air relieved he wouldn’t have to do some other stupid test, today was wierd enough without playing these dumb mind games.

Mort nodded towards his majesty, Taking the Carrots from Dianne he walked towards Clive and bowed stretching his hands out with the carrots, “Sorry, Hero Clive is it? You can never be too careful. I look forward to supporting you in your heroic endeavours. Please accept these along with my apology.”

~munch munch munch~

“Hey Frank, these are great, you guys can't be too bad if you can grow this kind of snack. Got any more of these?”

Frank looked at Mort, “Clive uh accepts your apology?” speaking more as a question to Clive who was chowing down on the carrots , than to Mort.

Frank then walked over to the King and Whispered, “King Anthor, I believe we should take … Clive here to the castle for dinner and discuss, with Dave what the next steps are The God of Destiny mentioned I had to help him retrieve several items, I believe Dave might know more.”

King Anthor nodded and spoke to Clive,

“My apologies to Hero Clive for the rather unbecoming issues we have had here today. First I would like to welcome you to Vera City of Hope. I am King Anthon the 13th of his name, once leader of the Blades of Green, Defender of All, The Kind King, Defeater of Blag, I humbly request you attend a feast at the Castle tonight”

Clive’s ears perked up at the word Feast, “Frank I suppose I should go since he is asking so nicely….. Are there going to be more snacks like those carrots there”

Frank picked up his sword, cut his satchel open and walked over to Clive ready to dash backwards at any moment if this crazy donkey tried to attack him. Lucky for him Clive thought Frank was an okay guy since he went so far as cutting his own drinking satchel for him instead of just pouring it out on the ground. If he did that Clive would have definitely kicked his face in.