Questing Sucks (Book 1) (42 page)

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Authors: Kevin Weinberg

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Questing Sucks (Book 1)
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Sehn had to admit, the Human woman looked beautiful when angered, but then again, so did Cah’lia. He grinned and nudged Alan in the ribs. “You let these women speak to you like this? Hah! Where is your courage, Alan? I’d never allow myself to be pushed around by mere women.”

Cah’lia pointed. “The same goes for you, Sehn! You knew you’d get drunk if you kept on going, and you did it anyway. Don’t think you’re getting off easy this time.”

Now Alan was the one grinning. “Oh? Tell me again about how you never get pushed around.”

Sehn ignored the Human. He’d show this ‘Alan Marshall’ the proper way of dealing with nosy, annoying females. “Silence!” Sehn commanded in his mightiest voice. “How dare you tell the Great Sehn not to drink! I wanted more, and I had more.”

“You made a fool of yourself is what you did.” Cah’lia’s face became tight, her cheeks reddened, and she shook as she spoke. “I don’t want to hear any backtalk from you. You’re in big trouble.”

Alan chuckled, his slightly pudgy belly rumbling at the sight of Sehn being disrespected. Sehn hissed under his breath. He’d show Alan he was no mere pushover. “Cah’lia!” he roared. “You have now gone too far! For this treachery I have decided to get drunk every day this week, and as your God-Commander I am ordering you to allow my new friend to come along with me. We shall escape from this hell-pit and then make drunken fools of ourselves.”

Cah’lia made a

grr

sound, and grasped the metal bars along with Rebecca. Sehn took a step back, but only because it was cold where he was standing. It’s true!

Cah’lia’s words were spoken in slow, demanding whispers. “You and Alan aren’t going anywhere near alcohol.”

Sehn forced moisture into his lips. “Fine,” he said. “I shall try to be diplomatic here, because I am a benevolent and kind God. As you wish, Alan and I shall go nowhere near alcohol together…but I can still go by myself, right?”

Alan dropped his mouth and clapped his hands to his cheeks. “I thought we were friends! You’ve already betrayed me, Great Sehn!”

“Consider this the first of your many sacrifices.”

The woman, Rebecca, met Cah’lia’s eyes and the two nodded. “I’ve made a nice new friend on my way here,” Rebecca said. “Turns out, we’ve got quite a bit in common. More than either of you two idiots realize. Neither of you are going anywhere except for where we tell you, and neither of you will speak back to us. From here on out Cah’lia and I expect your obedience, and you two will give it to us.” She inhaled, and with a commanding military-like shout she addressed them. “Do you two understand!”

Sehn turned to face Alan, and the two made eye contact. It only lasted a moment, and within seconds they were laughing uproariously.

“I’m a commander of the Kingdom’s army, and you are but a first lieutenant. You can’t tell me what to do!”

“And I,” Sehn continued. “Am the Great Sehn! Who do you think you are, Cah’lia? Come, Alan Marshall, let us be out this bitch. I found a spot yesterday that had fine ale. Perhaps we can—”

The laughing stopped immediately when the dreaded jangle of metal resounded in the air. Alan and Sehn watched in horror as Cah’lia removed keys from her pocket. “Yes, boys,” Rebecca said. “We had these all along. Only, we originally thought we’d make you beg to get out of here. Apparently, you seem content to stay inside. Well, in that case we’re coming in.”

Sehn and Alan backed into the corner of the dungeon in unison. Sehn moaned when he hit the rocky wall, there was nowhere left to go. The steel bars slid open, and Cah’lia and Rebecca entered at a slow, menacing walk.

“Be reasonable now, Rebecca,” Alan pleaded. “Or Great Sehn and I will have to hurt you.”

“Bring it on,” she said, punching a fist into an open palm. “I warned you what would happen if you got yourself drunk again.”

“And I,” Cah’lia added, cracking her knuckles, “told you I’d beat you silly if you didn’t behave yourself.”

Sehn didn’t know what to do. The two women advanced on him and his new friend. Sehn was at a loss for ideas. He knew he couldn’t defeat Cah’lia in a fist-fight—as much as it grated him—she was simply too agile.

“I don’t get it,” Alan said. “How did you two get the keys in the first place? Why are you even here? At least tell me that much before you knock my teeth out.”

Rebecca’s face maintained the look of terrifying fury, but she lowered her lip and pointed an elbow at Cah’lia. “Cah’lia and I met each other in the mayor’s office, and it was a stroke of luck, too. I wonder if either of you have any idea just how fortunate it is we met. Alan, this woman knows Prince Patrick. She knows many things, things that you need to know as well. She has a signed document by the prince himself, guaranteeing the Kingdom’s aid. However, due to Sehn’s behavior the mayor doubts its authenticity. That’s why Pumpus threw him in the dungeons, at least until he gets the matter straightened out. Now, this is where I come in. You might be a commander, Alan, but you’re still accountable to Kingdom law. You were thrown in this dungeon for your lewd acts. So I, and the lovely Cah’lia here, struck a bargain. I used my power as first Lieutenant to validate the document, and Cah’lia used the document to set you free. Everyone wins this way.”

“Wait a minute,” Alan said. “The document was signed by Patrick? Are you serious?” Rebecca’s anger diminished. Sadness filled her eyes.

So, Cah’lia had told her, had she? Sehn wondered if Cah’lia mentioned how they’d abandoned the man, left him to die while they fled like cowards for their lives.

It wasn’t my fault,
Sehn thought.
I did it for Cah’lia. I’d have stayed.

Rebecca closed her eyes as she spoke. “Patrick is dead, Alan. He’s dead, and the army is marching here…to Hahl!”

Alan changed. His posture became straighter, his look less haggard and more firm. Before Sehn’s eyes he transformed into a different man entirely. There was an air of nobility about him now, a commanding and rigid presence. Even his brown worn-out and ragged clothing did little to remove the feeling of confidence coming from him.

“Tell me everything,” he said. His voice was no longer playful—it was course and powerful. “I have the feeling there’s a few things we need to be sharing with each other.”

Sehn grinned. “I believe I’ve just made myself a powerful new disciple.”

Cah’lia stepped forward, coming face-to-face with Sehn, while Rebecca did the same to Alan. “You’re right,” Cah’lia said. “There’s a lot of stuff we need to talk about. But first…”

Before Sehn could react, Cah’lia pulled back her fist, and then slammed it into his face. Sehn’s jaw shook with the impact, and he was knocked off his feet. At first Sehn thought he hit the ground twice, until he realized the second thud was Alan falling beside him. He’d been dealt the same justice.

Cah’lia looked down at him. “That was for such a ridiculous ending to an otherwise lovely night,” she said. Then her eyes became soft. She leaned down and pulled him to his feet with surprising strength. For a moment Sehn thought she was going to kiss him, right there in front of his new friend. Instead, she pulled him in and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “And this is for how far you made it.” She planted a kiss on his cheek, and then pushed him back against the wall.

In one of the most humiliating discoveries Sehn had ever made, he realized he secretly wanted a real kiss, one that was like the other times. The thought tore at him, it was shameful. To make matters worse, Cah’lia teased him. “That’s all you’re getting until you learn to behave yourself.”

“Hah! Like I would want your disgusting lips over mine.” Sehn crossed his arms and stood defiantly.

Alan was back on his feet, unfazed by the swelling forming under his right eye. If anything it made him look fiercer. “We ready to talk?”

 

 

Ghell looked behind him, and for what seemed like the millionth time, he thanked the Gods he picked the right side. The army seemed endless—there were thousands upon thousands of soldiers clad in black. This was only a portion of their force, too. Ghell wondered where the man with the dreadful hawk-mask managed to assemble all of these people. As far as Ghell knew there were only three Human factions. There was the Kingdom of the Seven Pillars, the Sons of
Frith
, and of course the Free-Mountain Drashians. Yet, as far as he knew the men and women marching to deal out death hadn’t come from any of these places. So, where were they from, then?

Ghell knew he should feel at least some pity for betraying the lands that bore him, but when dealing with such uncountable might, what choice did he have? No, he made the right decision. All it took to embolden his resolve was a cursory peek back at the earth-shaking force under his command.

Things needed to proceed smoothly. This would be the most significant battle the army’s faced yet, and if Ghell failed he’d be tortured for years before they allowed him to die. Not that he’d ever allow himself to get caught—if things didn’t turn out well, Ghell would be sure to take his own life far before any of the hawk-man’s creatures put their paws on him.

“Hold!” Ghell commanded. This part always fascinated him. First, the seventeen generals came to an abrupt stop, turning around to face the eight thousand mounted archers and lancers following in rows behind. The rumble of galloping horses ceased, replaced by the sounds of men shuffling in armor as they about-faced. The soldiers marching in the rear halted soon after, and where only a few minutes earlier the deafening noise of an approaching army drowned out all other sounds, there was now an unsettling quiet.

Three of the hawk-man’s generals approached. “Why have we stopped?” one of them asked. “Explain yourself, commander Ghell.”

Ghell wanted to slit the man’s throat for his insolence, but such a thing wouldn’t do. He was only given control of a tenth of the overall army in an attempt to prove himself, and he needed to make good use of every last man. Sacrificing a general would be no different than sacrificing himself.

“We’re one day from Hahl. I wish to make sure our champion is doing well. Bring him to me, I want to inspect him.”

One of the generals raised his hand into the air and signaled. Three men leapt off their horses and ran to the back of a wide carriage. Several moments later they pulled on chains attached to a large wooden cage. A partially naked man sat with his legs folded in the center of it. His eyes were closed, and his short brown hair dripped sweat onto the valley floor.

Ghell pointed at one of the men pulling the chains. “Has he eaten?”

“Yes, my Lord, we have seen to it personally. If he’s needed, he’ll be ready to kill.”

Ghell knelt before the cage and knocked on the wooden entrance. “Hey, wake up. Show me your eyes so I can make sure you’re not getting the mania.”

The man’s lids peeled back. He had cat-like eyes, narrow slits that allowed an equal amount of both sly wit and barely contained rage to seep through. “I’m fine,” he whispered. “Wake me up when it’s time to kill.” His eyes closed following his final word.

Satisfied, Ghell stood from his crouch and hustled back to his mount. “Resume march!”

There was an almost sadistic glee in the atrocities he was going to commit. Ghell was born in Hahl, and now he was going to destroy it. Rather than feel any guilt, he felt his crotch harden at the thought of the coming bloodshed.

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