Almost home. Almost home. Almost home. So
tired of forests and drinking dew and eating plants. I can't wait for a strong
bowl of squid gruel. Can - not - wait.
Blue again complained about her legs the
next day, demanding that we stop early. She's not built for a lot of walking in
the forest, says she, and I know firsthand that she takes a fair number of
tumbles. Tends to happen when your head is buried in the treetops half the
time. Doc eventually agreed, probably knowing that she'd squash him to death if
he tried to leave her behind.
Ha. Squashed. To death. That's a nice
mental image. One swat would flatten the little prick. Ahh, potential good times.
The Non don't eat a whole lot, but they do
need a bit of nutrition every few days. Doc, being the sadist he is, decided to
hunt for game - and he forced Blue to go with him so she could scare game in
the direction he wanted. Since this usually meant sitting down and frightening
animals from one spot, Blue didn't mind this so much. Cedric and Bernard went
with Doc to further pen in his prey.
This left me, alone, tied to a rock, with
Driscol as my only company.
You have no idea how awkward that was. I've
never liked Driscol, and he's never liked me. He used to call me The Baron's
'dog'. Back then I hated it because it wasn't true. In retrospect, I hate it
because he was kinda right. I did The Baron's work for him.
Also, Driscol was a dickwad. Threaten me
for spilling soup? The nerve.
Death didn't change Driscol much, and it
took ten minutes of silent brooding before he finally wandered over to me. He's
the middle section of CeDrisArd, so he has no arms. Looking at him… not
pleasant. Not at all.
He caught me off guard with his first
question. "How is my sister?"
I reeled. "… wh… what?"
"My sister. Evangelina. Is she well? Have you let her out of
prison?"
"Oh." I stared at the trees.
Anything to not look at Driscol's scarred-and-stitched torso. "Uh. Yeah.
She's fine. I, uh, um… let her out. Gave her a job."
"A job?"
"Yeah. Advisor. I'm… a mayor, y'know.
She helps me."
Driscol sat and snorted. "I'm surprised.
After the trouble we caused the kingdom, I thought you might not forgive
her."
I laughed, thinking back to a monster made
of sticks and baleful orange eyes. "Y'don't know the half of it."
"Huh?"
"Nuthin'." I cleared my throat.
"Bigger fish to fry, or whatever. You and your sister tryin' to take the
kingdom from Jeffrey… hell, it was probably the right thing to do. Considering
how it all turned out."
"Perhaps." He lapsed into silence
for a few moments. "Though squabbling with The Baron and attempting to
siege the castle was not the optimal route to success. Clearly."
"Clearly. D'ya know he tried to trick
me into thinking you were behind all the shadow shit? Had your face on and
everything. Could tell by his voice it wasn't you, but… y'know. He tried."
"Yes, I know." He swallowed.
Sweat stood out on his veined brow. "I… I was there."
"What?"
Driscol explained. After his 'suicidal'
attack on The Baron in King Jeffrey's throne room, the would-be conqueror was
supposed to reappear outside the castle. The spell was not actually suicidal…
… but it hadn't worked properly. Instead,
he'd woken up in a coffin, the same coffin I'd found at the bottom of the hole,
watched over by The Baron, Kierkegaard, and Eve. And there Driscol had
remained, bound and trapped, until Doc came along and turned him into a pet
project.
"Gods." I fidgeted as he finished
his story, staring at the ground. "I wouldn't wish… being trapped in a
coffin… on anybody. I'm sorry you went through all that."
"Mmm." Driscol shook his head.
"I won't apologize for what I did, because I still believe it was right.
You did what you did because you thought the same. So don't apologize. It won't
change what happened. Live with it."
"Yeah…" I bit my lip. I didn't
know what else to say, so I asked the question that had passed through my mind
so many times. "What does he want with me, Driscol? What's The Baron
planning?"
Driscol looked at me, and I forced myself
to match the glare. Flecks of orange and green danced in his eyes, fighting for
control, the orange always losing to the green. "I'm not sure. But I think
it's more what he doesn't want for you. He doesn't want you in that town of
yours."
"Pubton? Why?"
"Like I said, I don't know." His
glare hardened. The old impulse to obey all nobles kicked in. Driscol is not
Lonnie, I'll give him that. "But I can tell you this much. These things…
the Non… they're coming for that mountain. Once they're done with one last
kingdom, they're coming. And I suspect they'll happily flatten your shitty
little burg in the process."
Sincerely,
Dragomir the Mayor
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