Chapter Three

Missing Brunch and Finding Cultists

Arnold was having the nicest dream. He was back at home on his rocking chair. Marge was there, and pleasant kitchen smells filled the whole house. It smelled like second dinner. Nobody bothered him as he rocked back and forth, back and forth on his enchanted oaken chair.

The Lost Fairy Queen had actually crafted the rocking chair Herself after he had defeated the High Demon Lord Del. She had already taught him about [Spatial Manipulation], so it had seemed a little greedy to ask for anything more extravagant than furniture.

Arnold opened his heavy eyes slowly... and found that he really was rocking back and forth.

"Wh-what is this?!" Arnold cried as he came awake to an open field all around him. "Put me down! Put me down, I say!"

His horizons were much higher than he was used to. Daring Dyan's daughter had hoisted him onto her shoulders and was marching at a hearty pace through unfamiliar wild fields.

"You're awake then," the female knight said. She did not slow her march.

"I am more than awake!" Arnold said as he slipped off her shoulder and landed on the grass below. "I'm furious! You upset my nap!"

"You've been asleep for over an hour!" the woman snapped. She seemed to have lost several tiers of awe since Arnold had fallen asleep.

"I hardly slept a wink," Arnold barked. He tugged angrily at his beard. "All that tossing and turning! You'd think I was a sack of flour! I'm an old man, lass! You need to treat me gentler!"

The female knight lifted her visor. Daring Dyan's own blazing red eyes stared down at Arnold.

"Every hour we are away, the cultists grow closer to reviving Ra-Hemi, the Devourer of Dreams!" She stamped her mailed foot, crushing several dandelions. "Does that mean nothing to you?!"

"You don't listen!" Arnold said angrily. She was certainly her mother's daughter. "They can't revive Ra-Hemi. You don't need to worry about it!"

"I don't need to worry about them killing and murdering innocent Lorendale men and women?!" The female knight threw her head back and laughed. It was eerily similar to Daring Dyan's own.

"People die," Arnold said grumpily. "I already told you I would take care of this cultist business. We'll have a little brunch and then- "

"Brunch?!" Daring Dyan's daughter took a violent step towards him. Her mailed hands were outstretched and seemed ready to throttle him.

"Yes, brunch!" Arnold said. "We'll need something to hold us over until lunch. I imagine we'll have this nasty business- "

"You just ate!" the female knight shouted. She really did try to grab Arnold, but he slipped away from her mailed fingers.

"I scarcely had a nibble!" Arnold said. He stroked his beard angrily and found several crumbs. He stuffed them quickly into his mouth. "You ate practically everything that fell on my plate!"

"Gods be good, her stories were true...!" Daring Dyan's daughter said, and it was as if all the air went out of her. "I thought they were just funny little bedtime tales... They were true!"

"I'll open another portal," Arnold began, but the female knight cut him off.

"Afterwards!"

Arnold recoiled.

"My mother told me all about this... this sickness," Daring Dyan's daughter said, her arms akimbo. "We'll have brunch afterwards."

"You're insane!" Arnold said in a huff. He looked away and started to tug on his beard. "I'm practically skin and bone. Marge will be- "

"Afterwards!" the woman said, and Arnold heard the mother's iron in the daughter's voice.

"You are your mother's daughter," Arnold cursed.

She had mentioned Merstone earlier. If he remembered correctly, that was the seat of the Lorendale King. It would be at least a day's walk.

"Can't have that," Arnold said with a shake of his head. The female knight barked a few more unpleasant words, but he waved them away.

Arnold grabbed hold of the fabric of reality and dusted off some cobwebs from his memories. If the two of them were waddling around this field, that meant Merstone was...

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

He puuuulled the world closer to where the two of them were standing. Within the blink of an eye, the tired stone walls of Merstone appeared overhead. The female knight's mouth fell open, and whatever curse she had been reciting fell silent.

"Watch your step, lass," Arnold said as he stepped over the wrinkle in reality. "Come on. The sooner we're done here, the sooner we can have some tea and cakes."

"That... We..." Daring Dyan's daughter sputtered as Arnold pulled her towards the high walls with his free hand. "How...?"

Arnold released the fabric of reality, and the wild field snapped back into place. None of the dour peasants and colorfully dressed mercenaries outside the city walls seemed to notice. They did notice Arnold and the female knight seemingly pop into thin air.

"Did you see that...?"

"I think... I don't think that mushroom was edible, Earl."

"Someone... Do we call the city watch?"

Daring Dyan's daughter quickly snapped free from her wonderment. She looked down at Arnold with a savage smile. Her mother's fire burned brightly in her baby blue eyes.

"You really are the Last Hero," the female knight said, which earned a frustrated grunt from Arnold. "You... We need to meet with Lord Myron at once! We can... You really are a legend!"

"I'm no one at all, lass," Arnold said as several watchmen streamed out from the city walls. A gatehouse towered nearby. "And you'd best tell your friends that."

The female knight frowned and then followed his stare.

The watchmen all wore black tabards over noisy chainmail. The closest man's eyes widened as he stared at the female knight beside Arnold.

"Lady Dyna!" the watchman said. "What... When did you leave the city?"

"A small errand," Daring Dyan's daughter said, her voice transformed with authority. "Send word to Lord Myron. I require an audience."

The watchmen turned to one another, and Arnold stroked his beard thoughtfully. Decades of adventure had left him rather sensitive to danger. These black-tabarded oafs were most likely cultists. Or at least in their pay.

"Come along," the female knight said, her curt words directed at Arnold. He knew a moment of frustration, but then he noted the hidden apprehension written across the woman's face.

Arnold swallowed his complaints and waddled after the female knight. The watchmen quickly fell in behind them. They muttered quietly to themselves.

The City of Merstone yawned far and wide as they passed through its towering gatehouse. It had been many decades since Arnold had last stepped foot inside its walls. Every building seemed to have grown twice in size. Despite its new wealth, however, its street seemed oddly empty. The faces of passersby seemed clouded and afraid.

They walked and walked and walked. More black-tabarded watchmen joined them as they passed empty town squares and deserted wells. The mailed watchmen carried halberds and spears, as well as several crossbows. There had to be at least twenty of the cultists by the time Arnold and the female knight reached a tall manor with an equally tall stone wall.

"Thank you for your escort," Daring Dyan's daughter said curtly to the closest watchman. She marched towards the manor and Arnold waddled after her.

A nervous-looking butler in a black jacket and white undershirt stood waiting outside the manor's wrought iron gate. He had a mousy face, and even his words sounded mousy when he whispered to the female knight.

"You've brought a small army to the Master's doorstep, Grace!"

Arnold frowned when he realized he had just learned the daughter's name.

"I've brought our salvation, as well, Dale!"

The mousy butler practically shoved Arnold and Grace through a small gap in the gate. It was quickly slammed shut behind them by several guardsmen in white tabards. Their faces were shadowed with unease.

"This is him then?" Dale asked as he flattened down his black jacket. He looked Arnold up and down disapprovingly. "I would have thought he'd be... taller."

"You will show him respect, Dale," Grace said softly, which made Arnold laugh sardonically. This demon of a woman would not let him have brunch and she dared to talk about respect.

"The Master is in the drawing room," Dale said as he led the two of them through a courtyard and towards a pair of massive double doors. They opened magickly as Dale drew near, revealing the manor's richly decorated interior.

The mousy butler disappeared down a hallway as the three of them entered the manor. Grace beckoned Arnold towards a pair of stairs decorated in fiery red felt.

"Lord Myron is one of the few lords who have not fallen to the cult's influence," Grace said as Arnold struggled up the endless length of steps. "It has cost him dearly, but what power he still has is much needed."

"My home doesn't have stairs," Arnold said angrily.

"Pardon?" Grace tilted her head in confusion.

"Stairs." Arnold pointed down at the ugly felt rug under his feet. "Awful things. I live in a tree, lass. If I don't need stairs, this Mayren fellow doesn't need them!"

"Lord Myron," Grace said, not without concern. "Please, Master Grubbly. He is our only ally."

"That's what I said!" Arnold growled. "Lord Maywon. And I'm not Arnold Grubbly!"

Grace's lips became a thin line as they reached the top of the dreadful stairs.

"Should burn this place to the ground..." Arnold muttered as he waddled after Grace. A brightly colored room with open doors appeared ahead. A tall figure stood inside beside a much taller bookshelf.

"Lady Dyan." The man's voice was cold and indifferent. He slammed shut a book in his hand and stomped over as Grace and Arnold entered an extravagantly decorated room.

"Lord Myron," Grace said with a deep bow. "I apologize, but it seems I have brought undue attention to your estate."

Lord Myron had a long horse-like face. It was not particularly emotive as he waved one of his thin hands in the air.

"They already knew where my allegiance lay," Lord Myron said, his tone indifferent. The back of Arnold's neck tickled as [Detect Deceit] activated. "I will not be intimidated by these traitors."

"It will soon be our turn to intimidate, Lord Myron!" Grace said excitedly. Her smile was toothy as she gestured to Arnold. "I have found the Last Hero!"

Lord Myron turned to Arnold. His long face betrayed no particular emotion.

"If that is true, we have much to celebrate," the dour lord said. Arnold started to stroke his white beard as [Detect Deceit] activated a third and fourth time. "What we need now is a Hero to defeat these riotous lot."

Daring Dyan's daughter nodded excitedly. The look was enough to ruin a little of Arnold's appetite. He almost wanted to keep his little revelation to himself, but that would make what was about to follow more complicated.

Arnold cleared his throat, snorted, and coughed into his hand.

"This lout here is a cultist, lass." He pointed a meaty finger at Lord Myron. The man's face did not so much as flicker with surprise. "Or at least an ally. I'll know in a moment."

Magick ran down through his fingertips as Arnold spread open the doors of the horse-faced man's memories.