Nature and Blight by Matt Rogers
Chapter 39: Horse Sense
Journey and Pursuit (Lazy River)
The water was slow, meandering along without rush, without desire, intent on arriving when it deemed the appropriate time. A morning fog hung over the river. Two on top were still in conversation.
“She’s going chop your head off.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It seems to me you’ve got a pretty large problem yourself.”
As Savage and Brutus were discussing whose possible marriage partner was more capable of removing heads Deadaim went down the hold to see if the Midglings were okay.
“Hello, you two, is everything…?”
“Oh God!”
“Not so loud!”
He found them lying on bunks with towels over their eyes moaning and groaning as the ship swayed along.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have drunk so much cactus juice?”
“Oh, Dear Lord!”
“Where’s that trashcan?”
The fun with Midglings and hangovers was their complete lack of knowledge about the potent brew. Or, more precisely, their insufficient understanding of how many consequences came about from the devilish drink.
“All right, time to wake up!”
He pulled the curtains, uncovering the porthole, allowing the outside world to greet the inside.
“Yaagh, the light!”
“Have mercy!”
The two, suffering the plight of so many others, sunk deeper into their sheets. They were so pathetic Deadaim almost allowed them the silence and solitude they desired. Almost.
“Get up!”
They jumped to their feet, squinting with pain, wondering when the archer had decided torturing Midglings to be a good thing.
“Okay, okay.”
“Jeesh, you didn’t have to yell.”
Of course he had to yell. Everyone yelled. It was the reward for not imbibing the night before.
“Get dressed and get on top!”
He saw them wince, nod agreement and then he left. He did so with a smile because the best was yet to come. He stepped on deck, the two mercenaries still stating their opinions.
“You ran away!”
“So did you!”
“I wasn’t engaged!”
“It was a forced engagement!”
Deadaim decided they’d had enough and sought to intervene.
“Are you two through?”
They looked at him questioningly. They actually weren’t sure. Savage felt his betrothal was unjust and Brutus felt he hadn’t actually entered into a relationship. Deadaim knew the truth.
“If either of those women get their hands on you, neither of you will be single another day.”
Both thought to say something. Both thought to argue the point. Both realized the archer was correct so felt a change of subject was a better response. Savage broached the topic first.
“How are the Midglings?”
“Hung-over.”
The three mercenaries smiled. It was the way of the warrior. Misery brought on by one’s own actions was ever open game.
“Are they on the way up?”
Deadaim looked to Brutus with a gleam in his eye.
“Yep.”
Brutus looked back and smiled wide.
“Then I’ll start breakfast.”
A fire was lit. A rather dangerous thing to do on a wooden boat but all felt it necessary to prove their point. After three minutes the pan was hot. A minute later the ingredients were added. A minute after that the Midglings made their appearance.
“Ow, ow, ow.”
“Is the sun brighter than before?”
It was and it wasn’t. The mist which would burn off later in the day made the sun appear a bit sunnier. The poor little runts were a wreck. Their clothes hung without proper placement, their eyes were glassed over, red with unrestful sleep and their minds were occupied with the feelings one felt when bodies signaled displeasure with the previous evening’s activities.
“I feel terrible.”
“Does it have to rock so much?”
The mercenaries, not strangers to the problems associated with next-day ramifications from previous-day unwise decisions almost felt sorry for them. Almost.
“Okay, the food’s ready!”
The startling loud shout from the barbarian was, to both Stu and Wort, somewhat unnecessary. But, since he was huge and they were not, both decided to remain mute on the point. Also, they were curious.
“What’s for breakfast?”
And their curiosity cost them.
“Fried fish heads!”
The laughter from the mercenaries was, to the Midglings’ way of thinking, also unnecessary. They thought giggling while others evacuated their stomachs which had nothing left to give a bit sophomoric. The three others did not.
“Did you see their faces?”
“I can’t believe they didn’t see that coming!”
After a little time watching the smallish creatures attempt to expel their digestive tracts Savage decided to begin the day.
“All right. Enough with the jokes. Get some bread and water into your systems.”
So the Midglings learned a valuable lesson that day. Cactus concoctions were not something to trifle with and mercenary humor left something to be desired.
“Are you two better?”
“A little.”
“Kind of.”
And the planning process began.
“Okay, we might have a slight problem when we enter Mother Mayeye’s realm.”
They were curious.
“Why?”
The answer left them more curious.
“Is she ugly?”
“Does she have bad breath?”
The response would reinforce their opinions Humans were a weird breed indeed.
“Nope, she’s gorgeous.”
So they sat down to learn the ways of the mercenary. It turned out they were a somewhat solitary individual. Now, solitary didn’t mean they avoided others, on the contrary; mercenaries were known to hang out in groups and seldom were by themselves. The solitary aspect of mercenary life was reserved solely for one type of individual.
“She wants to marry you?”
The question asked was honestly. The honesty is what annoyed him.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t she?”
Now, Midglings weren’t the most world-wise of beings. They generally stayed underground in order to stay alive. But when the Sergeant asked they felt truth was better than fiction.
“Um, because you’re probably going to be dead pretty soon.”
Savage, unaware of his mortality, became mystified.
“Why do you say that?”
The Midglings, not the brightest of creatures but also not complete buffoons, stated their opinions. Stu did the talking, Wort did the nodding.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re wanted by Prince Blight, you’ve got Elvin assassins on your trail, you were the acting commander who laid siege to Mother Nature’s castle, you’re banned from Lawlessness and you ran out on a marriage ceremony between you and a beautiful ruler, that Mother Mayeye lady. Have I got all that right?”
Savage didn’t respond. He was considering the words. Brutus didn’t. He already knew them to be true.
“Yep.”
“Then you’re not showing the best judgment in the world. I mean… Come on! Anyone can see your running out of places to go.”
Savage didn’t like Midgling honesty. He was seriously considering tossing the two overboard when fate, once again, intervened.
“Get down!”
The warning was issued by Deadaim. He’d become aware of something off, something different; the complete lack of sounds from one side of the river. The arrows which penetrated their hull attested to the fact he was correct in following his instincts.
“The Elvin!”
They saw only briefly outlines of them. Two who rode horses. Two who fired from afar. Two who had shelter
“Man the oars! We need some distance before…!”
“Get down!”
The warning, again, came from Deadaim. He’d become curious. Why would anyone attack from a shoreline when those on the receiving end could easily escape by crossing to the other side? When he looked he found the answer.
Thunk!
Thunk!
Two more. Two others, also on steeds were attacking from the opposing side. They stayed low, took shelter on the deck, safe from the arrows due to the boat’s construction. The railing was whole. It provided a three-foot wall. The only problem?
“We’re sitting ducks!”
They couldn’t man the oars. They would need to rely on wind-speed to make their escape. The wind which was virtually non-existent. The wind which gave the river its name. The wind which was ever absent.
“Deadaim!”
“Yes, Sergeant?”
He knew what Savage would ask. He was reluctant to answer.
“Can you see them?”
The truth was he couldn’t. The fog was thick near the waterline, not eliminating eyesight but definitely reducing visibility. He could catch glimpses of them but they were also hidden behind trees, naturally camouflaged and in a much stronger position. The Elvin could move on land. They were trapped in water. It was only a matter of time before the obvious occurred. They came as a pair.
Thunk! Thunk!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The flaming arrows hit mid-ship, landing on the deck, promising an early termination of voyage. It was snuffed out quickly with a bucket of water, a bucket which would need refilling. A bucket which was easy for Elvin archers to target.
Thunk! Thunk!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Two more arrows alit with flame arrived from the other side. Brutus took charge.
“Sergeant, pin down those to the left! Deadaim, you take the right! Midglings, pick up that bucket and get it refilled!”
The two smaller creatures were dumbfounded. They’d never been in a situation so extreme. It saved their lives. Their imagination was useless because they had no reference to rely upon. Fainting could come later. The time for action had arrived.
“Wort!”
“What?”
“Grab the rope! I’m throwing it over!”
So the two whose thoughts provoked unconsciousness were saved by the unknown. They couldn’t visualize what they had never considered. Stu threw the bucket, Wort held the rope and both hauled with all their might the container filled with life-saving, fire-extinguishing liquid. They put out the flames and a lull ensued. The Elvin were readjusting, racing their horses forward in preparation of continuing the onslaught.
“We’re in big trouble here!”
All agreed. The ambush was obvious. The assassins would wait as the boat sailed by, shoot flaming arrows and bide their time. They might get lucky. Even experienced warriors sometimes made mistakes. There was one problem, though.
“Elvin never leave anything to chance!”
The statement was made by Deadaim but the other two mercenaries were of the same thought. The odds were good they could withstand the attack. Merely take shelter from the arrows, provide covering fire and pour liquid on the flames. They knew the Elvin. Had battled beside them. They were missing something. Brutus, having fought sea-battles before, saw the light first.
“Crap! It’s a delay! They’re going to attack from behind!”
And so their interests shifted. They looked to the rear and spotted their fear. A boat was fast approaching and there was nothing they could do. They would soon be trapped. The ones on the shoreline prevented them from taking up oars as the ones behind closed the gap. Things were looking pretty bleak. They were the best of the realm but even they were not immune from Death’s design. If they were not better planners, insufficient at imagining possibilities, she would have the last laugh.
Thunk!
Whoosh!
The assault began again and they were ill-prepared to offer a defense. The ship to the rear had made up ground. Without manning the oars they would get caught in a crossfire. A crossfire from three directions. A crossfire impossible to survive.
“This is not good!”
All looked to Savage. He looked back. His training would never allow for surrender but facts were facts; they were in a boat, unable to increase speed without receiving arrows for their efforts, awaiting the arrival of Elvin on a ship who would sit comfortably at a distance while firing flaming missiles into their vessel. It appeared hopeless. They were outnumbered, outflanked and out of ideas.
“Deadaim!”
“Yes, Sergeant?”
“Any ideas?”
“Nope.”
“Brutus?”
“Nope.”
So the three who had no equals sat considering their fate.
“Wort?”
“Yes, Stu?”
“Do you keep hearing them shout?”
“Huh? Hear who shout?”
Stu told Wort what he heard so the Midglings sat, not considering their fate, but curious as to an unanswered question. They decided they had not the knowledge so should ask those who did.
“Sergeant Savage?”
Savage, in the middle of returning fire had not the time to answer.
“Mr. Deadaim?”
Deadaim, in the same boat and performing the same service as the Sergeant also declined to responding.
“Mr. Brutus?”
Brutus, not an archer and thus relegated to flaming-arrow removal by tossing them into water whenever the other two provided covering-fire was, at that moment, crouching down to avoid unwanted piercings, so did respond.
“Yes, Midglings?”
The Midglings, appreciative of a captured audience, decided Stu should do the questioning.
“Why do they keep announcing their intentions?”
The barbarian, a little puzzled, responded confusingly.
“Huh?”
Stu, wondering if the mercenary had suddenly lost hearing-ability began screaming.
“Why do they…!”
Savage, two feet away and not in the position to completely ignore the teensy creatures, interrupted.
“Who keeps announcing their intentions?”
Wort, coming to the aid of his friend because Stu was a bit breathless from yelling, clarified.
“Stu thinks he heard the meanies on the shoreline yelling before the attack.”
Deadaim, suddenly realizing everyone was paying attention to the Midglings, jumped in.
“The Elvin?”
Stu, having regained his wind after shouting three words, answered.
“Yep, the ones shooting the arrows.”
The mercenaries, having shared the same space and having heard nothing, looked upon the Midgling with worry.
“Are you still drunk?”
Stu, after previously undergoing an incredibly long regurgitation process, indicated he most definitely was not.
“Nope, threw everything up.”
And so the mercenaries looked at each other. Then they quickly stood, shot off a volley, re-crouched and looked again.
“Do you think?” Savage asked aloud.
“It’s a possibility.” Deadaim answered.
“What? What do I think? What’s a possibility?” Brutus asked with barbarian sincerity.
The two mercenaries of the same mind asked the two Midglings the same question.
“What did you hear?”
Unfortunately, Wort was sitting closer.
“Well, now, I didn’t hear anything and I suppose it’s possible Stu is imagining fake voices because we’ve been on a pretty traumatic journey so far and…”
The mercenaries realized their error.
“Not you, Wort!”
Savage decided to specify which Midgling.
“Stu! What did you hear?”
With the messenger decided the information was delivered.
“Before shoo
As Stu went off on a tangent Savage glanced knowingly at Deadaim. Deadaim nodded his head, peeked over the railing and quickly resumed his post.
“It’s not out of the question. They’re definitely within earshot.”
Brutus, still baffled, interrupted.
“What question? Who’s within earshot?”
And so Savage explained what he thought.
“It’s not an Elvin ordering the assassins to fire.”
“It’s not?”
Obviously it wasn’t. If an Elvin yelled and the Midgling heard then the mercenaries would’ve also heard. Brutus, though, completely mystified but without any insight asked his question because he merely wanted answers.
“Who is it?”
“It’s the horses.”
The answer did not satisfy.
“Huh?”
“The voices Stu heard. It wasn’t Elvin, it was equine. Whenever the Elvin light their arrows the horses react as all horses do. They neigh in fright at the one thing they fear most; fire.”
And the barbarian understood.
“Oh! And because the little one holds Nature’s amulet…” Brutus began.
“I can hear horses scream!” Stu yelled.
The problem they had was what to do with the information. It really wasn’t difficult to figure out. Except, maybe, for Brutus. And Wort. But they weren’t consulted so weren’t insulted.
“Midgling?”
“Yes, Sergeant Savage?”
“Tell the horses to run.”
And so Stu did. And the horses bolted. Leaving two problems solved temporarily and one remaining. One which was quickly gaining.
“Man the oars! I’m turning the boat!”
One which saw something surprising; their prey altering direction by employing oars. Employment which should’ve brought a steel-tipped response from their brethren on the shoreline.
“Sergeant Savage?”
“Yes, Midgling?”
“What are we doing?”
Savage pulled an oar with all his might. On the other side Deadaim did the same. The vessel turned as Brutus steered.
“We’re attacking.”
And the two Midglings looked at each other, eyes fully opened, not with fright but with excitement.
“Ooh, this could get good.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, I was thinking the same thing.”
So the Midglings watched while their boat veered directly toward the other. The space wasn’t so far they couldn’t register the looks on their opponent’s faces.
“They don’t look too scared.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, they look pretty prepared.”
The Elvin on the other ship had stowed their oars. Their boat already had momentum and they were readying themselves for the combat to come. As their watercraft closed the gap the mercenaries did the same. The final moments were an incredibly serene picture; two small sailboats silently gliding over the water. Except when one looked closer a problem emerged; they were on a collision course.
“Um, Sergeant Savage?”
“Yes, Midgling?
“Why are we attacking?”
The answer should have been obvious. It probably was to anyone who’d been attacked by numerous forces before but, since they were Midglings, they had no knowledge of numerous forces because all their predators came in singular form. So they were curious.
“We’re attacking because we can. Those horses you sent galloping won’t keep the other Elvin out of battle for long. We need to even the odds before they return.”
So the Midglings learned an important lesson of warfare; the lessening of opposing forces was a good thing.
The separation between the two boats diminished. As it did the anxiety and suspense increased. So much so, Stu and Wort had a hard time waiting.
“Ooh, this is so exciting.”
“Uh-huh, exhilarating.”
The suspense, though, was also nerve-wracking.
“Um, okay, I’m getting a little nervous.”
“Uh-huh, I’ve got a little anxiety brewing.”
And so Midglings, being who Midglings were, decided to do the same thing at the same time; they turned away. Their reasoning was simple. If looking at something caused worry then not looking would eliminate the unwanted feeling. They were completely wrong.
“Oh no.”
“Oh my.”
The large ship appeared as though it emerged from nowhere. The truth was it had been waiting. Hiding in cove around the next bend of the river.
“Um, Sergeant Savage?” Stu yelled over his shoulder.
“I’m a little busy, Midgling” came the shortened reply as Savage was tightening his tunic in preparation for battle.
The ship behind them was emerging through the fog, cutting the distance in amazing time.
“Um, Mr. Brutus?”
“I’m steering the ship, Midgling.”
The barbarian was intent on the Elvin craft in front and never even glanced their way.
“Mr. Deadaim?”
“Not now, Midgling” he replied as he set aside his preferred weapon and unsheathed a scimitar.
The very sinister, very ominous war-craft bearing down on them was looming larger by the second.
Neither Stu nor Wort knew what to do. They were pretty sure an enormous ship coming from behind was an important piece of advice all would want to know but were in a quandary over the timing. It wasn’t every day they attacked an Elvin watercraft and could understand the mercenaries’ reluctance to take their eyes off the enemy but were also aware of another mitigating factor.
“Are those…?”
“Uh-huh, they definitely are.”
When a vessel with a contingent of soldiers, soldiers armed to the teeth with bows and arrows, made a bee-line towards one’s location it was probably a good idea to pay them some attention.
“Sergeant Savage!”
Savage, eyeing the Elvin with anticipation almost ignored the annoying little beings. Didn’t they understand the dangers they were in? Hadn’t they heard of the Elvin? Were they so isolated in their caves they’d forgotten the intensity needed to fight? All those things went through his head when, at that exact same moment, something happened which altered everything.
“Did they…?”
“Why would they…?”
“What the…?”
The Elvin on the boat, a boat no more than twenty yards from theirs and closing fast, suddenly stiffened, pointed and did something unheard of.
“Did they jump overboard?”
They abandoned ship. Right before the battle, the minute before the fight, those with the reputation of never shying from confrontation did what their kind were reportedly unable to do; they fled. Savage was completely perplexed.
“Sergeant!”
He turned to look at the tiny creatures to tell them to keep quiet so he could ponder the actions of the assassins.
“Look, Midglings! Now is not the time…!”
And then reality became clear. The galleon, for it could be nothing else, was the largest ship any save Brutus had encountered. It was slightly mocking in its size. Twenty oars, ten on each side, were employed by sailors safely hidden in the hold below. On top, fifty archers, all with arrows notched and strings taut, aimed their projectiles at the mercenaries in the small sailboat. Everything was eerily quiet. And then it wasn’t.
“Stand by to be boarded!”
They stood with hands raised for to do otherwise would’ve been unwise. The boarding party arrived, the mercenaries shackled and then taken aboard the war-ship. The Midglings were another matter. No one had bracelets small enough for the creatures. The soldier in charge took one look at the diminutive pair and dec
“Golly! This is a big boat!”
“Yep, pretty impressive!”
As the Midglings looked around with awe the three mercenaries were brought before the commanding officer on deck.
“You’re under arrest!”
The three glanced at each other. All were tempted to say something snide because it was quite apparent they were under arrest, the shackles one glaringly obvious clue, but didn’t because bound hands tended to indicate binding one’s mouth from uttering foolish words which could most definitely do them harm. It didn’t mean they couldn’t utter sensible questions, though.
“On what charge?”
Savage was fairly certain he knew the answer. The men were adorned in her outfits and the ship bore her crest. He was hopeful, though. Maybe it was all a mistake? Maybe the maritime vessel just happened to be in the area and came across their encounter with the Elvin? Maybe they could talk their way out of the trouble? He was querying to find information, to find a solution, to find an answer. It came in two forms. The first, verbally.
“Trespassing and desertion.”
The second, visually.
“Wow!”
“Hubba!”
The Midglings, having never encountered the beauty who ran a realm were taken by surprise. She emerged from the cabin, dressed to impress and tantalizing to the eyes. She glanced at them and smiled. They really were adorable little beings. She then returned her stare to the man who stared back.
“Hello, Savage.”
“Hello, Mother Mayeye.”
All were led inside where they were told of their predicament.
“You didn’t really think you could pass through our territory without us becoming aware, did you?”
She asked Savage but another pondered the obvious.
“Who’s we?” Deadaim asked.
As if on cue another entered. Another who was pleasing to the orbital nerves.
“Youza!”
“Hubbity, hubbity!”
The Midglings were rapidly figuring out women from far-away places were a delight to behold. She glanced at them and did the remarkable; she grinned. Midglings were ever cute with their responses. She then turned her attention to the one she wished to see.
“Hello, Brutus.”
“Hello, Queen Ann Archy.”
The blonde and brunette stood with smiles as two of the three mercenaries sat with worried expressions. The other one had an expression of bemusement.
“You had a spy in the Fountain of Youth.”
Deadaim said it not as a question but as a statement.
“Of course. I have spies everywhere” the blonde queen replied.
Deadaim nodded. He should’ve guessed. All should’ve guessed.
“When did you know?”
She glanced at him curiously. He was intelligent. If, for some reason, her plans for the barbarian fell through she thought the archer a distinct possibility.
“You mean, when did I know you stole the boat?”
He didn’t .
“No, when did you know we left Blight’s employ?”
He’d already gleaned she had someone inside Santa’s tavern. What he wanted to know was whether she had people in other places, more dangerous places, places which might come in handy if future events unfolded as he thought they might.
She smiled. It was becoming commonplace for her.
“We knew you left before you ever reached the Breathtaking Forest.”
And his intuition proved true. They’d been watching. Keeping tabs on events which would eventually affect their realms. The two women, the two monarchs, were not fools. They could see the dangers if Blight took control of Nature’s realm. What Deadaim wanted to know was what they were willing to do about it. Which side they would choose? He decided to find out.
“The Midglings are on a quest to find Father Time. Queen Mother Nature has entrusted them with a message. We are helping them with the mission.”
The information Deadaim revealed was intended to reveal something else. With the revelation he made their allegiance known. It would be up to the women, the two who could decide all, to make a choice. He wished to know their intentions.
“Yes, we thought as much. The Midgling’s amulet was noticed by our spies. She would allow none but her messenger to possess such a powerful artifact. We will help but only on one condition” Mother Mayeye responded.
Deadaim then knew. Savage knew. Brutus had an inkling but was ever hopeful he was wrong. The Midglings, of course, had absolutely no idea what was transpiring.
“What? What condition?”
“Yeah, what condition?”
They were so incredibly innocent Deadaim wondered if he should even reveal the truth. He decided they needed to know.
“The battle between Mother Nature and Prince Blight is not as you see it, little ones. King Rot is testing the realm. He wishes to possess all. The siege of Castle Nirvana is merely the opening salvo. Whether victorious or not he will lay claim to more lands. Those lands will need to choose; submit to his rule or face war. All will need to choose sides. The outcome is unknowable because Rot’s forces are innumerable. Mother Nature has chosen to oppose his will. She cannot stand alone. She needs allies. Two of whom are in this room as we speak.”
The Midglings glanced at the women and they nodded, indicating they were indeed the ones Deadaim was talking about.
“Our lovely Monarchs have indicated they will side with Nature on one condition.”
“Yep, we heard that.”
“Uh-huh, but what condition?”
And so the crux of the matter came into play.
“Their decision is difficult because it affects all they rule. Their subjects will be at war with creatures of nightmares. All rulers must weigh the consequences when considering such matters. Eventually, though, it always comes down to one thing; how far are they willing to go? Our beautiful sovereigns have decided to throw the question back at Sergeant Savage and Mr. Brutus.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not following?”
And so two of the most dangerous men in any realm found themselves confronted with something they had no answer for, something they could not fight, something they had no defense against.
“Marriage, little ones. Mother Mayeye wishes to marry Sergeant Savage and Queen Ann Archy wishes to wed Brutus. It is rather brilliant, if I do say so myself. Our two lads hold both the power of reputation and reverence in the mercenary ranks. If they become betrothed to our lovely ladies then most, if not all mercenaries will choose to side with them against King Rot.”
The Midglings finally understood.
“Oh!”
“All right, I’ve got it now.”
And so Deadaim summed up the dilemma.
“So the question is now on our two heroes. The women have indicated their willingness and now ask it of Savage and Brutus; how far are they willing to go?”
So everyone looked to the two who knew no equals, the two who could not be bested in combat, the two who looked like trapped animals seeking escape from a cage with no exit. And the complexities of the game changed again.