By the time I wake up the next
morning, Merlin has gone. I have no
idea where he’s gone, but his instructions from last night come back to
me. With a groan I sit up and then look
around for some dried meat to snack on for breakfast.
I’m still eating when Beaux shows
up. She doesn’t bother to announce
herself; she just dives right through the door. “Figures you wouldn’t be up and about yet,” she says.
“Care for a bite?” I ask.
“I’ve already eaten.”
“I’m sure you have, but this is
better than some berries and nuts.”
“I haven’t time and neither do
you. You’re supposed to be in the
village.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he told me before he left. Now get moving. You can finish eating on the way.”
I grumble to myself, but soon
enough we’re on our way. I try to make
small talk, but she has none of that.
She’s more concerned about those sheep of hers. By the time she gets back, they’ll probably
all have run off or gotten themselves eaten by wolves.
“I don’t know why you bother with
them. They’re just stupid sheep.”
“At least I’m good at something.”
“There you go again. I’m the apprentice to the most powerful
conjurer in the whole land. What more
do you want from me?”
“You’re his assistant. Or his manservant is more like it.”
“Manservant? I don’t change his bloody robe for him,
woman. I am indispensable to him.”
“Is that why he left without you?”
“Bah. There’s no reasoning with you.”
I’d like to stomp away from her, but she can easily keep up with
me. “Why don’t you just let me handle
this?”
“Because you’ll botch the whole
thing, is why.”
“And what would you know about
finding a warrior?”
“More than you. The only thing you ever fought were Gren’s
kittens—and you lost. Just look what
happened with Greetha—”
“Bloody witch took me by surprise
is all.”
Beaux brandishes her club. “I’m a lot closer to a warrior than you’ll
ever be.”
“Fine, you can come along, but I’m
the one in charge.”
She gives me a nasty look, but
holds her tongue the rest of the way into the village. Though Elgar is still sore about the last
time we met, he escorts us to his father’s hut. “Where is the conjurer?” the chief asks.
“He’s attending to other
business. He’s asked me to come in his
stead.”
“For what? Have you come to claim my title, little
man?”
“Not at all. My master has asked me to seek out the
village’s bravest warrior for a special mission.”
“What sort of mission?”
“There is a very nasty bloke on his
way here. A black demon. He’s going to lay waste to everything unless
we find a warrior who can stop him.”
The chief gets to his feet with a
groan. He stands beside Elgar and puts
a hand on his shoulder. “You need look
no further than my son. He is without
equal.”
“The master has made it very clear
I’m supposed to find someone who is brave, strong, and pure of heart. I’m not sure
Elgar meets all those qualifications.”
“What are you saying, old man? My heart is purer than anyone’s in this
village!”
Beaux puts a hand on my arm. “What Marlin is saying is that we want to
make sure.”
“Yes, exactly.” I clap my hands together. “I suppose the simplest way to make sure
would be to have a tournament.”
“What sort of tournament?” the
chief asks.
“We’ll have every able-bodied man
in the village duel to determine who is the best.”
Elgar grins at us. “That sounds amusing. Then you will see without a doubt that I am
the best warrior in this village.”
“What about being pure of heart?”
Beaux asks me once we’re outside.
“We’ll worry about that later,” I
say. I just hope the master is done by
that time, because I have no idea what he means; I only know Elgar can’t be
what he has in mind.
The chief makes the announcement to
the rest of the village. There are
twenty men in total; the chief does not include himself. Only after the announcement does young Artr
pull his father aside. “Father, what
about me?”
“What about you? He said able-bodied men.”
“I’m sixteen. I’m old enough to go to war.”
The chief stares at his son for a
moment and then sighs. “Very well. Add the boy to your list.”
I nod at the chief, though I know
the boy has no chance. He’ll be lucky
if one of the others doesn’t snap him in half.
Well, it’s his funeral.
I turn to Beaux and say, “Now that that’s
settled, how about we get some decent food?”
“You and your stomach,” she
grumbles, but she follows me to get a joint of mutton. We eat it together beneath a tree. Maybe there’s a good side to this job after
all.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Where has Merlin gone? Find out tomorrow!
4 comments:
You should illustrate this story. Perhaps others will join me in voting for illustrations!
Well I can't draw and there aren't really the right clothes in the Sims to do that, which was part of the reason I redded out the cover so you can't see the details as well.
Did someone mention illustrator? Too bad I'm retired.
i get a great visual of the story even without illustrations. great job!
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