Chapter 6
Marshmid
“What do you mean they have just wondered off?” Captain Gumboot asked into the stunned silence.
“Well sir,” the young scout said. ”I was standing at the edge of the swamp, watching the army, as was my duty and they just sort of started heading deeper into the desert. Sort of in the direction of Barock, sir.”
The nervous young scout stood in the middle of the parliament building of Marshmid. He was down on one knee, his cap in his hand. He kept looking back at his mud covered wellies, as if they could run in and save him. The wellies just looked back at him as if to say, ‘not a chance mate, you wouldn’t catch me in there.’ (FYI: In Marshmid those rubber boots you wear to walk through mud and swamps are called wellies so as not to accidentally cause confusion. I.e. “This gumboot’s full of shit.” And having the ruler of the town standing behind you asking just exactly what you thought he was full of.)
“The sun must have fried his brain.” Gumboot said to the parliamentarians. “Let’s see if we can’t get someone into Killem’s inner circle and find out what his new strategy is.”
“Well sir.” Sergeant Dylan Mole, head of infiltration, said, “We did manage to capture, well capture is too strong of a word, I think the correct term would be promised him a glass of water and a place out of the sun, one of Killem’s chief of staff yesterday. We thought that the man was delirious, so we put him in a cold dungeon, he seemed happy enough, but with this new information he might make sense.”
“Get him in here. Thank you scout, you can get back to your post.”
The scout almost tripped himself up as he made a break for the exit, bowing the whole way out. The others sat around discussing the events while the prisoner/defector was brought up.
When he was finally hauled in, he was a complete mess. He was badly sun burnt and was clutching a glass, when one of the guards tried to take the glass he got bitten.
“Let him keep it, guard.” Captain Gumboot said. “So Mister…what is your name?” The man snapped to attention and saluted, dropping his glass in the process.
An hour later they had a new glass in his hands and had finally stopped him crying. Not wanting a repeat of the previous outburst Gumboot continued more tactfully.
“What can you tell us about General Killem’s plans, Sir?”
“This god appeared and told the general that we had to go to Barock and wait for these three people and then kill’em.” The man giggled at his pun. Gumboot ordered the man away.
“I see what you mean Dylan, obviously spent too much time in the sun, but whatever the reason Killem’s on the way to Barock. Maybe we should send some men after him, just to make sure this isn’t some new elaborate plan.”
Barock Crater Lake
“Pa it looks like an army is invading.”
“A what?”
“An army pa, and they look thirsty.”
The father and son sat on their little rowing boat in the middle of Crater Lake. They had been fishing since dawn, and they had almost filled the boat.
“They look hungry as well.” the father said. “We best be getting back to the house and have your ma lock up your sisters, on second thought we best be locking you up as well.”
They rowed back to the little house by the edge of the lake as fast as they could.
The army had just hit the water and showed no sign of stopping, when they arrived.
“Fishin’ will be poor tomorrow.” the father mumbled as he herded his children into the underground cellar that they had built for this exact purpose. (Barock had seen its fair, some would say unfair, share of invading armies. It seemed that Barock was the center of the invading armies universe. So much so, that the locals had turned the place into a bit of a war town. It didn’t have a standing army of its own, ho no, it had something much more diabolical, huge pots and vast stills. It worked very simply, the army would invade, the locals would sell them food and booze. If they didn’t have the money to pay, they were more than welcome to pay with weapons, which in turn the locals would sell to the next army that could afford it. A very prosperous town indeed.)
“The kids are safe pa. If you could check on the still, I’ll take the fish up to the town and let everyone know we being invaded.”
“Thank you ma.” (Yes, they really do call each other Ma and Pa.)
After a few hours of wallowing in the water Killem’s army marched into the town. They were greeted by the mayor, the local high school marching band, the smells of fresh baked bread, fish and chicken soup, the sounds of beer casts being tapped and of course the two hundred sisters of questionable virtue that called Barock home. Killem’s army were so well fleeced that first night, they had to spend the remainder of their stay in Barock camping by the Lake, only the lucky or skilled card players able to sneak back into town.
The Hardpassvil Inn
“Ta place is more en less gettin’ ship shape, dear.” Mrs Smith said to her husband. “I twos t’inkin’ wez best ba getting’ ta town en buy more linen.”
“Good thinking, sweety.” he replied. “Take the money from the fertilizer sale and see what you can do. I’ll just finish off upstairs. Be careful mind you, the road to Barock is a bit sticky this time of year.”
“Will do, see ya in a co’ple da.”
After seeing his wife off Derek Smith went upstairs to finish off the last few rooms. Whistling to himself as he cleaned the room, he found a wooden box under what was once a bed. Being such a fastidious inn keeper, he did what his ancestors would have and put the box in the lost and found. He had a light lunch of rabbit pie, not his wife’s best, but as they had eaten all the bats and rats, he knew all he could look forward to were the almost inedible rabbit, chicken and venison pies his wife would try to make. He went out to the back shed and had a good look around, but there was no sign that rats had started moving back.
“Oh well back to work I suppose.” he said, very deflated.
He was just finishing off room 21a, when he found a key. The tag had rotted off years ago, so he thought that it must have been from the last guest. He went down stairs and checked in the Reception book. He wrote out a tag, tied it to the key and put it with the envelope for room 21a. (What did he write on the tag you may ask? Lord Da’Loose of course.)
Free Port of all Crustation Island
“I can’t believe there’s no one here.”
“Stop saying that Brain, I for one find it refreshing that nothing and no one is trying to kill or eat us.” Opie said.
“What do you suppose this warring is all about?” Tricks asked. She hadn’t sheathed her sword since they had arrived.
“Probably some kind of Festival. Like King Clement day.” Siege said walking down the middle of the street.
“Hey, look at that.” Brain shouted excitedly. “It’s a box full of money. Look, there’s another one. Looks like there’s one at each shop.”
“I’ve heard of those.” Opie said. “There’re called honesty boxes. You take what you want from the shop and then put the money in the box.”
“Wow, some people are really stupid.” Brain said walking closer to one of the boxes. “Haven’t they ever heard of the thieves’ guild?”
“Move the coin and look at the bottom of the box.” Opie told Brain. Who complied.
“There’s some sort of symbol at the bottom.”
“It’s called the honesty mark. If you steal from the box it means, if you are caught, you will be executed.” Opie said taking a look at the mark, while Siege moved farther away.
“But there’s no one here.”
“What did I say earlier about you saying that?”
“Okay, I’ll stop saying it. Who would see us if we, or someone with a natural tendency to steal, decided to help ourselves?”
“No idea.” Opie replied, “But they probably left someone to watch, it’s just not worth the risk. Look out Siege.” he suddenly shouted as Siege backed into a table containing an honesty box.
/> He ran over to her, but stepped back in complete surprise. “That’s strange.”
“What?” asked Siege turning and looking in the box. “The money’s still there. Do you think I’m losing my power because of all the…you know?” Opie blushed.
“I don’t think so. You are still putting fruit and stuff in your pockets, you’re just not taking money from the honesty boxes.”
“Maybe it’s like some sort of Siege protection spell.” Brain said.
“Stop buggering around.” Tricks said from farther up the street. “I think I can hear some people. Sounds like they are having a great party up ahead.”
“I can’t hear anything.” Brain said walking closer to her.
“Can’t say I’m all that surprised, Brain, as you’re as deaf as a post.” (Odd saying that. Posts hear very well, it’s just that they don’t have much to say, so people assume they must be deaf.)
“I can hear just fine, thank you very much.”
“Whatever. I hear feasting and drinking. You can pussy foot around here all you want, I’m going to join in the festivities.”
“You two go ahead,” Opie said. “I want to try a few experiments with Siege and these honesty boxes. We’ll catch up in a mo.”
“Experiments in kissing and cuddling is more like it.” Brain said once they were out of earshot.
“Thanks for that image, Brain” Tricks said sarcastically. “All I can picture is Opie groping fresh air.”
“It’s not like that.” Brain replied. “It’s like he has a magic that makes her visible when they kiss. I saw it when you fell overboard.”
“I didn’t fall overboard, I was abducted. Besides, I don’t think I want his magic rubbing up against me.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Brain replied.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were into guys.” Tricks said, chuckling.
“I meant Siege, not my type.”
“So what is your type?” she asked as casually as she could.
“Not really sure.” he replied, “Never really thought about it. Too busy making great inventions.”
“That’s rich.” she said and picked up the pace. “Sometime I wonder if you aren’t gay.”
“Hey, just what the hell do you mean?”
“Nothing, let’s go find this party.” Brain stood in stunned silence, then ran and caught up with Tricks. Neither of them felt much like talking.
Crustation is divided down the middle, with the Kingdom of Lob on the West and the Kingdom of Cray on the east. The only place the two merge is at the free port of all Crustation Island. The Walls start a short distance outside the city limits. Depending on which way you want to go, you take the east or west path. There are no signposts. Brain and Tricks were so intent on not talking to each other that they took different paths. Opie and Siege got to the fork in the road and decided to split up; not knowing which way the other two had gone. They decided to meet back at the fork at sunset. Fate, or maybe I should say beer, conspired against them and prevented them from keeping their meeting.
Opie and Brain
Brain arrived at the perfect time to join in the festivities. The party was in full swing. He marched himself into the first beer tent, got a couple of jugs of beer and sat down. Opie found him ten minutes later on his second jug.
“Have a beer, pal.” he said passing the third jug to Opie.
“No time, where is Tricks?”
“Who the hell cares!”
“I do. We must find her and meet Siege at the fork in the road before sunset.”
“I’m not going.” Brain slurred.
“Why not?”
“She hates me.”
“Who?”
“You know?”
“Actually, I don’t”
“Drink your beer or I shan’t talk to you.” Opie sighed and took a sip. He knew it wouldn’t be easy getting Brain to go with him. He thought about all the ways he could convince his friend to follow. The thinking was thirsty work, and the next thing he knew he and Brain were standing on a table singing ‘Lob the great’ with two hundred other patrons.
Tricks and Siege
Siege had a very similar experience with Tricks, only she didn’t get drunk or sing ‘Cray the great.’ When she finally managed to get Tricks to sit down it was well past sunset. She did manage to find out that Brain had gone in Opie’s direction, so she was hoping that he would bring him to where she and Tricks were when he didn’t find her waiting at the fork in the road. She made sure she and Tricks were waiting in a visible position in the tent.
“Tell me what’s wrong?” Siege asked the now morbid Tricks.
“Hey Siege.” Tricks giggled “What you doing here?”
“Trying to rescue you.”
“I’ll do the rescuing…whoops.” Tricks said trying to pull out her sword, only to watch it go clattering to the ground. “I think I’m drunk.” she whispered very loudly and then giggled conspiratorially. “Have some more beer.” She hiccupped.
“I don’t think that would be good for you.”
“I shinist. I shnizzest. I sh…shn. I demand you drink.”
“Okay, but then you have to tell me what happened between you and Brain.”
“That’s all water under the bridge.” Then she got morbid again and stared into her beer. Nothing Siege could do would cheer her up. Until a captain in the Cray army came around and signed them up for active duty. In no time Tricks was dancing on the tables again.
Opie and Brain
“I don’t think this is such a good idea Brain.” Opie said through the fog that was now his brain.
“Sure it is, nothing like a bit of exercise to cure a hangover.”
Opie shrugged his shoulders and signed his name. It was too much effort to try arguing with Brain once he had made up his mind to do something stupid. They spent the rest of the night drinking and talking about really profound things, which only really drunk people find profound. The next morning they woke up to the sounds of trumpets. They were lying just outside the tent they had spent most of the previous night in.
“What the hell is that racket?” Brain asked, trying to cover his ears with his hands, which was made very tricky by the beer jug he still held.
“Did you leave a wakeup call, ‘cause if you did I swear I will kill you.”
“What you say? I can’t hear too well with all these trumpets and I think I have a beer mug stuck to my hand.”
At this point a man in uniform with the letters MP written on an armband walked up to them and checked the back of their hand.
“ATTENTION.” he shouted, and then held his head and continued in a much more civilized volume. “Up you get lads, the battle will begin shortly. Let me just say it was very brave of you to sign up for the first wave of the attack.”
“The whoza what’sit?” Brain tried to ask. Opie hit Brain on the back of the head.
“You see what happens when you sign things.”
“What?” Brain rubbed the back of his head. The MP laughed, and then thought better of it, he too had been up all night singing ‘Lob the great’.
“No time for second thoughts.” the MP said. “The battle will start soon, so you had better go find your regiment. It should be near the wall.” With that said he went to find the next group of lads that had decided to sleep in.
“Oh, gods Brain, what have you gotten us into? Siege is going to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about her.” Brain said. “I think that guy said we were in the first wave of the attack, we probably won’t live till lunch.”
“Nice way to cheer a guy up. I swear Brain if we get out of this alive I’m going to kill you.”
“No time for that, we have to think of a way out of this.”
“How about we make a run for it.”
“Don’t be stupid, Opie. I’m in no shape to run.”
“Good point. Maybe we could pretend to be sick.”
“Doesn’t look like that will work.” Brain replied
pointing at the now visible army. Brain and Opie looked positively well compared to some of the men trying to stand at attention.
“We going to die, aren’t we?”
“Yip.”
Tricks and Siege
Tricks wasn’t in much better shape. She was suffering from what she called flu, as she never got a hangover, so the only explanation was the one she was using. She stood in her position with the other first wavers, while Siege ran back and forth to the coffee tent. They had both signed up for the first wave, but Siege wasn’t required to participate, for obvious reasons. There was a lot of coffee drinking going on in the ranks of the first wavers. It seemed that everyone had caught Tricks’ flu.
“As much as I’m looking forward to this war,” one of the soldiers next to Tricks said. “I just wish it could start later or maybe tomorrow.”
“I know what you mean.” someone else said. “I really don’t picture myself charging into battle right now.”
“Think we could ask the Sarg to get a postponement.”
“Has anyone seen the Sarg this morning?”
“Yeah, I saw him in one of the red tents, poor bugger was at it all night, I’ll be surprised if he can walk any time this week.” That got a lot of laughter. (In case you don’t know: Licensed sisters of questionable virtue use red tents to advertise their presence when away from their homes. At their homes they use red silk draped over their door.)
“Very funny Jenkins.” a large burly man said. “Get back in formation. For your information, it’s them that won’t be walking.”
He continued walking, but there was a lot of hidden pain in every step. He got to the front of the troops and with great difficulty and lots of help, managed to stand on the wooden stool.
“Good warday morning, troops. For those that don’t know me.” he said looking at Tricks, “I’m Sergeant Loude. I will be the one giving you instructions. If you do what I say, you should all come back alive, however if you mess up or don’t follow my instructions…”
“What’s this instruction stuff, Sarg?” Jenkins shouted from the ranks.
“They’re like orders, only some lily liver idiot back at HQ thinks ‘instructions’ is more motivational sounding than orders. If you ask me, using words like instructions and acceptable casualties is what’s making this army into the ham fisted pussy footed lame assed no good hoity toity fannying around load of old cods whollop that…” Tricks didn’t hear the rest, one of the men whispered into her ear.
“This is why we signed up with the firsties.” he said in a very low whisper. “Old Sarg always gives this sort of grand style performance before a war.”
“Okay.” she replied, “but what exactly is he saying?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea, but he’s about to blow, if my…” Sarg blowing cut him off.
“WHAT THE HELL…” he shouted.
He held his head and said a little softer. “What the hell are you doing talking while I’m handing out orders, I mean instructions. You two front and center.” Tricks and the whisperer made their way forward. “Well Private Soat, I see you have a problem with me talking again, and who is your little girlfriend.”
“I’m nobodies girlfriend Sarg.” Tricks said. “I’m Tricks form Clemville.”
A hush descended on the soldiers.
“The Tricks?” Jenkins asked.
“I don’t know about around here,” she said. “but where I come from I’m The Tricks.”
“Greatest sword in all the land?” Sarg asked.
“Yes that would be me.”
“Then we are truly honored to have you here at our fine warday.” Sarg said. “Private Soat, go inform the King of our great fortune. While we wait for a response, let’s see if we can’t get Tricks to give us a few lessons.”
She was happy to oblige, until the Kings guards invited her to join him at his private box. Siege invited herself, and they had the best view of the battle, only they weren’t able to participate, which suited Siege just fine thank you very much, but Tricks was a little disappointed. The great food and wine more than made up for it though.
Opie and Brain
Opie and Brain sat out nothing. They couldn’t come up with an excuse in time, and had to endure the entire battle from start to finish. They also got a speech from their Sarg, but it was more about duty and honour. Half the men, including Brain, fell asleep and had to be roused when it was time to go over the wall. The sight that greeted them was more spectacular than they could have imagined. All across no man’s land were banners and grand stands. People were cheering and shouting and selling things. Everyone on their side of the centre line wore blue, on the other side everyone was in green. (In the first few battles everyone had worn the colour of their favourite cooked crustacean. Which made the battle extremely difficult, it turned into a free for all and no winner could be declared. As a result, the Kings had decided from then on the people would wear the colour of the water their favourite crustacean was found in. This stopped the free for all, but still no winner could be declared and so began the legend of the letter writing.)
“Gather in the tent.” their Sarg said.
While they were all moving into the tent Opie whispered to Brain.
“Our only hope of survival is to stick together. You fight off anyone who gets too close, and I’ll take out the rest with my crossbow.”
“Sounds good, only thing is, they seem to be confiscating all weapons.” Opie looked into the tent and sure enough a group of men were taking away the weapons of the men in the line in front of them.
“I don’t like this.” Brain said as Opie turned back to the colour he had been before the adventure had started, pale, very, very pale.
“Okay, this is for you new people.” the Sarg said. “We can’t afford to lose too many men, what with harvest time coming up, so we have changed the rules of our war a bit from what you are used to. Firstly you will use our weapons, they are these wooden sticks covered in sponge, let me tell you they hurt, but are unlikely to kill. Secondly there are drums dotted around the battlefield filled with red paint, you dip your sword in the red paint and whack someone, preferably from the opposing team. If you are whacked, a ref, dressed in yellow will either declare you dead or fit to continue. Thirdly have fun, it is warday after all.” Opie and Brain stood in stunned silence.
“You mean we aren’t going to die?” Opie asked no one in particular.
“That’s the spirit.” someone replied. “The longer you last the more likely you can win a seat at the King’s banquet.”
They got their blue tunics and marched out onto the field, dipping their swords in a drum of red paint as they went. They were finally lined up on the field facing the feared enemy. Someone yelled charge so they did.