Witches Be Crazy, page 32
“Listen to me!” Koey yelled once more, stepping in front of Jimminy. “Do not use your hatreds to unite yourselves! It only leads to dissention and downfall! This was a thriving city under the regime of my father, and he never resorted to such underhanded tactics. He governed by way of freedom and fairness. There was no thought policing or mandatory opinions enforced by royal decree! As your ruler I will support the rights of the individual to form their own impressions! Under my command there will also be freedom of religion, and no taxation without representation, and—”
Her voice eventually became drowned out by the rising roar of the crowd.
“Didn’t King Ik teach us to hate Nonamay?”
“And redbears!”
“GOD I HATE REDBEARS!”
“Me too!!”
Koey stared disbelievingly out into the crowd as her hands slowly fell to her side.
“Hello!?” She called into the crowd. “I’m offering you freedoms … and options for representation … These are good things, why don’t you want them … ? ALRIGHT FINE THEN!!!!” She bellowed at the top of her lungs.
The crowd quieted down as curious eyes turned back to Koey.
“If you accept my reinstatement as queen then my first official act will be to declare tomorrow to be Everyone Go Out Into the Forest and Kill Redbears … AGAIN day!”
At that, the entire crowd threw their tools in the air whilst cheering. Chants of “All Hail Princess Koey!” broke out amongst the masses.
“For the love of Suola it’s ‘Queen’ not ‘Princess.’” Koey corrected exasperatedly.
Still rife with mirth, the crowd began to disperse back to their self-prescribed duties while the new queen returned to her friends. Upon seeing the looks on some of their faces, she felt compelled to explain herself.
“I know what you’re thinking, and it pained me to have to do that.” She insisted to Rose’s dissatisfied facial expression. “I share my father’s contempt for political games and ploys, however it is a sad truth that, pretty or not, there seems to be no way around them.”
“Ye landlubbers be a strange bunch.” Nobeard mused.
“Well in my books the benevolent princesses always …” Rose began. However she was cut off by Koey before she could finish.
“I would love to hear about all your stories, Rose. But let us make our way to the castle before we begin our discussion of such things. You all have been invaluable assets to the crown and the kingdom and I would be thoughtless if I did not find a way to reward each of you. So if you would allow me the pleasure of your company for a little while longer, we shall take up such conversation in the banquet hall. Follow me please.”
The once beautiful blue gown Koey wore was now stained and tattered from her time in the forest. However the elegance and regality she effortlessly exuded couldn’t be stifled even if she were clad in no more than a potato sack. Gracefully she led everyone in the party away from the stage and into the castle. Everyone in the party except for Dungar, that is.
Part of him did indeed want to accompany the group and receive a reward for the ordeal, but a larger part compelled him to stay behind and let them go. They had all been forever bound together by the adventure, and the memories will stay with them for the rest of their lives.
However, in his heart of hearts he knew that the adventure was the only thing that bound them together. Now that it was at an end they all once again became normal people, normal people with nothing left keeping them together who would inevitably go their separate ways.
“Taking an early leave are ye, laddy?”
Whirling around, Dungar saw Nobeard casually leaning against the wall of a building behind him.
“Uh huh.” The blacksmith replied flippantly. “I need to be on my way.”
“After all that eh? I don’t know everything ye folks have been through, but I think it be fair to say it be quite a lot to just simply walk away from.”
“Don’t gimme that. They’re good people, but you and I both know it wouldn’t work out.”
“Ye don’t know yerself a bloody thing, lad. Ye can justify yer actions to yerself all ye like, but the fact of the matter is, ye be the one leaving. Not them. And if yer still leaving at this age, then I’d be willing to bet ye always have been the one who left. Because if ye’d ever tried sticking around then ye’d be privy to the merits if ye catch me drift.”
“Oh you think I’m always the one to leave? I have a window that says otherwise.” He retorted proudly. “And what about you then? I don’t see you going with them.”
“Aye, because I’m here saying me goodbyes to you, lad! I can always say me goodbyes to Jaunty later, or I could just wait til the next time he dies and shows up on me shoreline. But fer now I just had to get away from the lady folk. I could see the googly eyes that the young brunette be giving me, and I didn’t want to give her the difficult explanation that she ain’t me preferred holster fer me captain’s log.”
He paused to give Dungar time to blink several times and let the words sink in before he continued.
“Ye life is yers to live, mister Dungar, don’t let anybody stop ye from doing so. I imagine ye will be going through some ideological changes in the wake of yer recent exploits. But whether or not they be formed in unconventional circumstances, true friendships be more valuable than anything I ever fished out of a fishy’s belly. I advise ye to think long and hard before making or breaking any commitments.”
“You are a very strange pirate.” Dungar said flatly.
“Aye I be. But what are ye gonna do?” From his coat he produced a small bag of what Dungar assumed to be coins which he put into that blacksmith’s hand. “Get yerself some rest, lad. Wise men don’t make decisions when they’re weary from a long day.”
Wordlessly, Dungar accepted the gift. Once he did so, the pirate began to back away down the street.
“Wait.” The blacksmith called out, one last thing popping into his mind.
Nobeard stopped his departure and looked back.
“What was in the chest?”
At that, the pirate captain chuckled to himself, much to Dungar’s confusion.
“I wouldn’t know, laddy! I never opened it.”
Dungar’s mouth fell open. After all that effort, risking life and limb and lung to rob the most powerful plant in the land when it clearly didn’t feel like being robbed, all the while listening to Nobeard insist that this was the pinnacle achievement he could ever aspire to, and he didn’t even open the bloody thing? His face must have conveyed all of that because the snickering pirate opted to answer all those questions before Dungar could even ask them.
“What do ye think be in there, laddy? Gold? Jewels? Dirty pictures? It’s the treasure I want, not any of those things. If I open the chest then it just becomes a box that holds assorted items of varying value. But if it stays closed then it remains the treasure of the wizard tree, and that be worth more to me than any material good that might be inside.”
In a strange way, that kind of made sense to Dungar. But he was really tired and had taken many blows to the head today, so what did he know?
“Farewell, mister Dungar.” Nobeard bid him one last time with his pearly pirate smile. “May the wind always be at yer stern.”
“Uh, you too. Whatever that means.”
As the mighty Captain Lukey Nobeard disappeared once more, Dungar looked down to the coin purse in his hand and felt a wave of tiredness wash over him. Wearily, he traced back through the streets until he found the familiar defaced “Law Resistance” building which he remembered to be a tavern.
Absentmindedly, he shoulder checked the door open and ambled over to the counter where the blonde boy from earlier froze midway through polishing a glass in reaction to his surprise visitor. The blacksmith slumped heavily onto the counter and looked the unnerved young man in the eyes.
“I need a room.” He grunted.
“This tavern doesn’t support lodging, sir.” The boy offered uneasily. “We’re only equipped to serve food and drink, which I would be happy to provide.”
Dungar blinked several times, struggling to compute the information just provided to him. He then dropped the sack of coins Nobeard had just given him onto the counter.
“I’ll be taking the keeper’s suite tonight then. Goodnight.” He grumbled as he walked away. As he made his way up the stairs he heard a faint rustling followed by the boy’s voice.
“Sir, this is just a bag of rocks …”
“Son, I just killed this town’s entire guard regiment with my fists. The next word out of your mouth better be goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The moment Dungar collapsed into the small cot that was so reminiscent of his own at home he was immediately whisked off into the most restful dreamless sleep he had ever had in his life.
“WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY!”
Dungar shot bolt upright in his bed, head butting Jimminy in the face and causing him to spill his plates of eggs and bacon everywhere. The two men sat in shock for a moment, each rubbing their faces.
“Well I probably should have seen that coming.” Jimminy lamented to himself as he began picking strips of bacon off the floor. He was wearing fancy new clothing and carried with him a handsome looking leather bag.
Dungar had no idea how long he had slept for. Blinking in the sunlight and rubbing his face, he looked out the window to find the sun was well into the sky and the town was in full swing.
“The ladies were wondering wot happened to ya, mate.” Jimminy informed him as he set a plate full of floor food into his lap. “And you missed out on presents!”
“There’s nothing she could give me anyway.” The blacksmith mumbled as he devoured the contents of his plate.
“Don’t be so sure about that, mate. She’s quite creative, the queen, and she makes the best sandwiches!”
Dungar raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
“Sure is, mate. She appointed Rose as the new curator of the kingdom’s library and offered Gilly the spot as captain of the new town guard. Oh, and she also had her canonized!”
“Really?”
“Yeah! We did it down at the church this morning. She’s now known as Gilly, the patron saint of badasses. The queen also tried to arrange an exorcism for me but the priest kept telling her that if it was a legitimate possession the body has ways to try and shut that whole thing down.”
The two men ate in silence for a few moments after that, reflecting on their journey and the wide open aftermath they now found themselves in. Dungar figured thiswas likely a familiar feeling for his friend, adventure seemed to be something of a routine for the man. However he found a strange sentiment towards the notion of adventure in his own mind.
He had always thought when the trip finally came to a close, and he wasn’t in jail or dead, he would want to return home to his simple life where he was most comfortable. But now having experiences under his belt, and new knowledge in his head, he found a strange thirst for adventure inside himself that had never been present before. A simple life of modest means no longer appealed to him. The world was too vast, too compelling to be neglected.
“Where do they brew the best ale in all the land, Jimmy?” Dungar smirked under his scruffy beard as he got out of bed.
“Well they usually decide that at the ale competition held at the base of the Demon’s Kettle every year.” Jimminy smiled as he too got to his feet.
“Demon’s Kettle?”
“Yeah. It’s a volcano, mate.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“It’s been known to be hot headed once in a while.”
“Well I don’t know about you, Jimmy, but after all this business I reckon I could use a drink.”
“Why now that you mention it, mate, I have a bit of a hankering meself.”
As they strode out of the bedroom and towards the stairs, a question popped into Dungar’s mind.
“How did you know I was in here anyway?”
“You’re not a hard man to track, mista Dungar.”
They made their way down the stairs to find the door to the tavern knocked clean off its hinges and chairs strewn all over the floor with a very noticeable wake carved through them.
“Blimey, mate. You’re like a bloody redbear!”
“I’ll be honest with you, Jimmy. I have no idea what a red-bear is.”
Jimminy turned to his friend, head cocked to the side as they exited the tavern into the street.
“… Honestly, mate. Me either. I always hear people talk about them though so I didn’t want to seem out of the loop.”
Dungar snorted loudly and Jimminy began to laugh as they made their way back out of the castle gates and into the wide open green fields of Jenair. The world stretched out around them in infinite directions, beckoning them to limitless locations. The blacksmith’s body felt light, as if uplifted by the freedom to explore. He breathed the fresh air in deeply and then turned to Jimminy.
“Alright, Jimmy. Where’s this drinking competition?”
“Far to the east!” The shaggy fellow replied enthusiastically. “Over ranges and rivers, lies a land that changes and shivers! If you reach said land, you’ve gone too far. The demon’s kettle is just a little ways that way.” He pointed with a grin.
Confidently, they made the first step of their new journey into the world. Then the second, then the third, then Dungar stopped counting. His mind drifted back to the girls and how he never did say goodbye to them. But it was too late now. Besides, they were probably too happy with their new appointments to give him any thought anyway. That thought, however, did spawn a question in his mind. A question he would regret asking immediately after doing so.
“You know, Jimmy, you never did tell me what your reward from the queen was.”
“Oh blimey, thanks for reminding me!”
Gleefully he reached into his new leather bag and produced from it a shiny new flute carved out of solid diamond.
“Oh god, no …”
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?! She had the finest woodwind craftsmen at her disposal retrieve a branch off the diamond tree last night so they could have this ready for me by morning! It sounds amazing too! Want to hear?”
“Jimmy you know I—”
“A one two three four!”
Keeping in step with his rhythm, Jimminy Appaya began to play the all too familiar melody of his favorite tune. Dungar briefly considered shattering the thing on the nearest tree, but instead he found his own head bobbing along ever so slightly to the beat.
“I saw that, mate! You have to sing with me now.”
“Not in a million years, Jimmy.”
“EVERYBODY!”
Way hey and away we slink
Off to the kettle to get a drink
Where the men are fat and their bodies stink
We’ll raise our glasses and make them clink
That journey went by in just a blink
We’re going to need a sequel I think!
About the Author
Logan J. Hunder is a 23 year old humanoid creature that records his rambling in text until he has enough to print in book form. A seasoned thinker, he’s been having thoughts about things for over two decades. Born in Victoria, Canada, he attended college for subjects completely unrelated to heroing and witch slaying but didn’t let that stop him from concocting wacky adventures, with only limited help from mind altering substances. In his spare time he enjoys watching movies, repurposing things as balancing beams, and giving inspiring pep talks to himself in the mirror. Witches Be Crazy is his first novel.
Hunder, Logan, Witches Be Crazy
