The Stranger's Woes (57 page)

I’m really getting sick of this, I thought. And then I stopped thinking. Fortunately, not forever.

I didn’t die. I came to and found myself very much alive, if not kicking. Because kicking was a tad problematic. My hands and legs were tied. On top of that, I was wrapped up in something thick and heavy, which proved a hindrance to my plans for living life to the fullest. I think it was a thick carpet. Judging by the jolting and bumping, I was in a beat-up vehicle of some sort.

“What the heck is going on?” I said.

“Do not be angry with us, Fanghaxra, but you must return to your people.”

Horrified, I recognized the voice of the gray-haired leader of my insane “fellow countrymen.” First, I wanted to cry, but then I became enraged. Fortunately, I didn’t do anything I would regret later. No Forbidden Magic of the umpteenth degree or whatever. I just cursed. And cursed. And cursed. I had no idea I knew so many swear words. Sir Juffin Hully, with his puny set of two thousand expletives, was a choirboy compared to me.

My subjects were deaf to my appeals, however, so I soon lost interest in my monologue and tried to come up with a better plan. Technically, my humble magical powers were more than enough to blow this caravan of Borderland dwellers to pieces, but to put my powers to any use I needed to free my hands. Without them I couldn’t do more than spit venom. Unfortunately, the nomads had been farsighted enough to wrap me so tightly that it was extremely difficult for me to use any of my tricks.

I carefully moved the fingers of my left hand and tried to snap them. It worked. I was lucky that my kidnappers didn’t have a complete file on me with the details of my “paranormal” abilities. If they had, they would have tied the ropes not only around my hands but also around all of my fingers.

I heaved a sigh of relief. Now I could act. The blasted carpet posed no obstacle to my Lethal Spheres, so . . .

But by that time, I had calmed down a great deal and didn’t find the idea of massacring a group of peaceful nomads all that appealing. What I really wanted to do was to get rid of them and go back to the small cozy apartment above the
Armstrong & Ella
.

I decided to start with a little interview.

“Guys,” I said in a stern voice, “what do you think you’re doing? Let’s imagine you took me home. Then what? Were you going to chain me to the throne? How was I supposed to reign, huh? With my hands and legs tied up? Because if you don’t tie me up, I’m going to run back here on the first old nag I can find, I swear.”

“Your feet must touch your homeland, Fanghaxra. Then your delusion will be gone,” said the stubborn old man. “There are many cunning magicians among these Uguland barbarians. They put a spell on you. That’s why you turned your back on your people. As soon as you step on your native soil, your heart will awaken.”

The old man’s voice lacked confidence, but I had no doubt he’d try to finish his bold experiment to remove the evil spell from me. No matter what the cost.

“If you don’t untie me now, you’re going to be very,
very sorry
,” I said. “Do you want to try me?”

“Even you are not capable of breaking our snares,” said the old man.

It sounded like he was trying to persuade himself rather than me.

“Well, that was a mistake,” I said. “You’ve been warned.”

I tried to focus. I still didn’t want to kill the earnest fellows. The nomads were few in number, proud, and rather sweet, and their stubborn attempts to make me their king were not so much annoying as they were flattering.

I tried my best to get rid of the rest of my anger and irritation. I knew already that Lethal Spheres followed my inmost secret desires, and that was great. All I had to do was tame my inmost secret desires, and all would be fine. I hoped that I had enough willpower to accomplish this feat. I just needed those stubborn dolts to do as I told them. And I wanted them to do it
now
, before they put their ridiculous crown on my poor head. A long voyage to the borders of the Unified Kingdom was not my idea of a good vacation.

A few moments later I decided it was time to act. I wiggled my numb left hand to let the blood flow and snapped my fingers a few times. Green fireballs passed through the thick pile of the carpet with a soft sucking sound. I could only hope that those dangerous clots of bright light were smart enough to find their targets without my help. Then again, sitting in that dark ravine, I hadn’t exactly been aiming at the dead bandits from the Magaxon Forest, but still . . .

A soft ruckus outside signaled the successful beginning of my operation.

“I am with you, Master!”

The stubborn old man was probably the first victim of the attack. His voice was soon joined by a chorus of others.

“I am with you, Master! I am with you, Master!”

“Good,” I said. “Now let me out of here.”

The carpet was unwrapped and the nomads cut the thin but durable ropes that had made me look like a silkworm in a cocoon. Their hands were shaking. They looked at me amorously, their eyes staring at me from under their silly kerchiefs.

I rubbed my numb hands and looked around. The vehicle I had been kidnapped in was an old cart. It stood in the middle of a beautiful grove. Around it walked the nomads’ moose, their antlers decorated with shiny thingamajigs.

Not without difficulty—my legs were still a bit numb—I got out of the cart and sat down on the ground. Then I gave my eccentric monarchists a long stern look.

“Never
ever
try to return me to my homeland. Especially in this manner.” I looked at the old man. “How did you catch me, by the way? Come on, spill it out.”

“With a lasso,” said the old man. “We learned from people which of the strange magic carts belonged to you, and I hid myself under a seat. I’m very good with my lasso, Fanghaxra, so your life was never in any danger. I tightened it just enough for you to go to sleep.”

“Really?” I said. “How convenient. Where were you when I was suffering from insomnia?”

“Forgive me, O Fanghaxra, that I was not with you during those days of hardship,” said the old man, absolutely seriously.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Fine. Go home, guys, will you? Some people are doing just great without kings, by the way, so it’s not that big a deal.”

“We cannot leave you, master!” said the nomads sadly.

“Oh, that’s right. But it’ll pass. One last order for the road, though. Well, not an order, really, just a piece of advice. Get rid of those darn headscarves. They look silly on you. Or at least tie them in a different manner. Let me show you.”

The old man handed me his headscarf dutifully. I wanted to take off my turban but noticed I wasn’t wearing it. It must have fallen off in the amobiler or wherever they had wrapped me in the carpet.

I took the scarf and quickly wrapped it around his head like a pirate’s bandanna. Meeting Sir Anchifa Melifaro had apparently had a greater effect on me than I thought.

“Something like this. Got that?”

“We shall do as you say, Fanghaxra,” said the old man.

And the dwellers of the Borderlands quickly began modifying their headgear. A few moments later I thought they looked pretty decent. They looked like a bunch of extras for a low-budget version of
Treasure Island
.

“Good, good,” I said. “Now, listen to me very carefully. Get down on the ground, close your eyes, concentrate, and . . . You’re free from my tyranny! Boom!”

A few moments later, the nomads stood up, scared and bewildered. Praise be the Magicians, though, they were now quite sane.

“What have you done to us, O Fanghaxra?” asked their gray-haired leader. “A man cannot do this to other men. Are you a god?”

“Oh boy. First a king, now a god,” I said. “Forget it. I hereby adjourn this first and final meeting at my court. Goodbye, gentlemen, and have a safe journey home.”

“Are you not coming with us?” the old man said sadly.

“Of course not. Did you ever think I would?”

“I had a hope.”

“I told you that hope was a darn-fool feeling,” I said. “Yet I have a hope, too. I hope you’re going to do well, even without me. Go home, people. And I will, too.”

I watched the caravan disappear in the distance as the thingamajigs on the antlers of their moose jingled and clanked, making a sad melody.

Then I shook my head a few times to clear it and sent a call to Juffin. The boss greeted me with a long monologue.

I’m glad you sent me a call
,
Max
.
I was just about to do the same and ask you politely whether you still remembered that you have a job
.
Your amobiler has been parked by Headquarters since morning
,
and you’re nowhere to be found
.
How did you get home yesterday
,
I’d like to know? Did you fly? Actually
,
I’m willing to believe it
.

You think I’m still in Echo?

Where else would you be?

Frankly
,
I have no idea
,
but this is definitely not Echo
.
Wait a minute
,
are you telling me you don’t know? I was kidnapped
.

Kidnapped! By whom?

My own subjects
,
if you’ll pardon the expression
.
I thought everyone down at Headquarters was running amok in panic
.

That’s news to me! How come I didn’t sense anything? When you overindulged in the love potion
,
I sensed it even before your body hit the floor
.

Maybe you were sleeping like a log after your exercise with the two hundred and thirty-fourth degree of Magic yesterday
.
Besides
,
it wasn’t a big deal
.
The guys didn’t want to hurt me
.
I was unconscious and took a ride in some horrible cart
.
Other than that I’m fine
.

Hold on a second
.
Run that past me one more time—are you still in captivity?

Are you joking? Do you think I can’t handle a bunch of crazy nomads?

Okay
,
hero
.
I believe you want to get home now?