Book 3: Sound And Fury

  Chapter 31 Wicked Witchcraft

  Molly stared in silent shock at her mother; dressed as though for a country fair, her hair done up in a spray of tiny pink rosebuds, setting off the blue of her eyes and the radiant smile that Molly had seen so very rarely in her life. That she was holding hands with a little green goblin man, who was smiling blandly and looking a little embarrassed was a whole other thing entirely.

  “Hiya… I’m Ghnash, the goblin king... I brought a visitor.” He said, cheerily with a wave. “This is Sally, my new friend. Be nice, gang, she’s shy.”

  A minor ruckus arose, but it subsided before becoming a tumult. Once things settled down to a nice, stable hubbub Molly and Sally found themselves seated together on a couch with Amy, and Becky across from them, surrounded by the rest of the group at a comfortable distance, all patiently and silently letting things unfold naturally…

  A loud crunching noise drew every eye to Daisybelle, lingering behind the bar, munching on something and watching with wide eyed amazement. “Cool! What happens next?!” She gasped, looking from one face to another, excited and giddy.

  “What? This is riveting stuff!”

  Gandree reached over the bar, seized his girlfriend by the shoulders and hoisted her into his lap on a barstool, before silencing her with a long, firm kiss.

  “Ugh, what were you eating?” He gasped, after a moment.

  “Dried and salted little fishies… they even still have heads and guts! There’s a whole jar of them back here!” She declared merrily. “Label says ‘cat treats’... Get me some! Is tasty tasty!”

  “Oh, sorry Gandree, those are Shiro’s favorite.” Amy muttered, looking a little sorry for the burly, good natured dwarf lad. “They really stink. That’s why I keep them in Wilf’s place.”

  “Hey!” Wilf grumbled sourly.

  “Anyway…” Amy ignored Wilf’s protests entirely, continuing on without missing a beat. “We have a lot to think about now and it’s been a long session for all of us. Shiro will remain with you. Please don’t do anything foolish. We really do mean you no harm. Take your ease here in the common room.”

  The small army of strange kids and the goblins trooped out, leaving the two women alone… aside from the tiny clouded leopard kitten snoozing on the rug by the fire.

  /

  “Are you sure we can leave them like that?” Wilf rumbled, sounding unsure… which was a rarity in the sober, contemplative young Adventurer.

  “Oh, yeah, they’re fine. Shiro is just there to remind them that they are still under our eyes. They won’t cause trouble.” Amy sounded as confident as Wilf wasn’t, while Maya, Rio and Frankie nodded agreement. Benny’s quiet grunt of approval sealed the deal.

  “Besides… Nobody saw Ward leave. Right? That goof’s been hanging out with Fig and Plumeria too much. He’s becoming a bit of a voyeur.”

  Amy’s cheeky grin and wry chuckle drifted on the summer breeze, as the kids went up to the main house for lunch.

  “Hey… where are Daisybelle and Ghnash?” Gandree asked a few seconds later.

  /

  As the door closed, mother and daughter reached out and gathered each other into a slow, long embrace, featuring much sobbing and more than a few snot dribbles and unladylike snorts.

  “I’ve ruined your lovely new dress..” Molly sobbed a long few minutes later, when they parted at last.

  “I’m sure the king will understand.” Sally murmured.

  “The… the goblin… were you…? Well, are you… Safe, wherever they took you?” Molly gasped, sobbing anew as they collapsed on the sofa together again.

  “I’m safe, all of the others too. The goblins are… unlike what the stories say. They are very strange creatures though… Strange, but kind, I think.” Sally whispered into her daughter’s hair.

  “And they have the most remarkable hot spring bath!” She giggled a moment later, in a fit of girlish glee that seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside herself.

  “This whole situation is so mad… I’m in a whirl. The king says I am free now… I don’t even know what that really means!”

  “Those people…” Molly whispered urgently. “Remember what they did, what they can do… That mad witch in the clouds will be in my nightmares for the rest of my life! This place is not so safe as they pretend, mother.” She leaned in closer, whispering ever so quietly in her mother’s ear.

  “I fear we may be in the hands of the Tarots, mother. I’m sure I saw several of those murderous terrorists in this mad place.”

  “Yes, king Ghnash introduced me to the Star and Greela the Tigress on our way here; they were both quite charming… and I remain un-murdered.” The older woman murmured softly. “Really, Molly, I think anyone the light cult hates is worth at least giving a chance.”

  /

  “I should have kept that jar of crunchy dried fishies…” Daisybelle whispered into her king papa’s big green ear, in their hiding spot up in the rafters.

  “Oh, Shiro treats? Tasty tasty! Amy hid them from me!” Ghnash replied, just a little too loudly.

  A soft chuffing purr of dissatisfaction drew the two goblins’ attention to the long rafter they crouched on, above the intimate little scene unfolding on the couch. Giant sized Shiro prowled forward, emitting a growl only goblin ears could detect, signifying his deep unhappiness with the interlopers.

  “Now I really wish we’d kept those treats…” Ghnash grumbled, as Shiro carried him by the scruff of his neck to a dormer window and pitched him outside, while still balanced silently on the narrow rafters above the oblivious humans.

  His majesty landed on his royal butt beside DaisyBelle, who sighed happily. “Was good show while it lasted!” She enthused. “Let’s go find some lunch!”

  “Crunchy, dried fishie tacos?” The king suggested.

  “Nub nub. Gandree boy won’t kiss me anymore when I eat those fishies. He’s strict!” She sulked and pouted a little, then brightened up.

  “Garlic kimchee over rice, smoked boar sausages and pickled eggs with soft cheese?” She suggested with a wise and thoughtful smile on her cute green face. “He’ll like kissing me then, so many tasty stinks to enjoy!”

  /

  Shiro returned to his warm spot by the rug, but he kept his eye on the small potted ficus that Ward was haunting at the moment… That guy couldn’t simply be snatched up like a wayward kitten. Baleful golden-green eyes bored into the suspicious little shadow under the shrub, which the deity ignored entirely.

  “Rank hath its privileges.” He whispered into the kitty familiar’s ear, spinning his voice from glamour and shadows.

  /

  Amy returned from Wilf’s place as afternoon began to get cozy with evening, escorting the two not exactly prisoners. “Molly says she’ll perform the rites whenever we wish. She says tomorrow at dawn is a holy day or something. I guess they have a ton of those, one or two every week, commemorating nonsense and bullshit.”

  “Gota keep those pews filled and the masses indoctrinated.” Ward agreed. “Do they pass a collection plate? Cause that would explain why none of the lords were interested in ‘ministering’ to the poor.”

  “Donations are expected in most cases. Those highborn clerics who serve the lower classes and slaves are usually compensated in… other ways.” Molly prevaricated, poorly.

  “Kids.” Ward clarified for the group. “I bet they ‘minister to the youth’ preachers can’t seem to keep their hands off kids. I assume the victims fare very poorly indeed.” He ran his gaze over the gathered youngsters and sighed.

  “There was something similar going on in the empire for a long time. Right up until your dad fed their local demon pontiff into the Devourer of Souls.” The tall, supernaturally handsome man smiled and chuckled with honest, joyful mirth.

  “Your uncle Jocomo has been quietly murdering his way through the empire’s vile scumbags and perverts for the last fifteen years.” He cackled with mad joy for a moment and sighed. “Good times!”

  /

  Evening came climbing down from the hills and made itself comfy over the huge, rowdy and overpopulated spit of land by the lake. Gary found himself once again in the kitchen cooking to hide from the overly complex and intimidating reality of the situation.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “I thought you’d still be up to your eyeballs in ‘royal business’ for a while, Ghnash… What brings you back so fast? Did your wives devour all that chocolate already? I’ll get you some more.” Gary sighed, as he hugged his much smaller, green brother.

  “Nub nub… I have not given them the chocolate yet. Is state secret! Ghnash must be double certain he is ready before giving them that!” He nodded vigorously and grinned. “Eat many raw oysters and carb-load before then. Otherwise, maybe I die… Poor king Ghnash, passed of fatal friction, or turned inside out, or babystick burst!”

  He chuckled and giggled at his own half baked fatal sex misadventure obituary and grinned.

  “Ghnash brings a mother and daughter back together today… feels good… To make this satisfying family reunion complete, there is a man who Ghnash needs, among your stupid nobleman prisoners.”

  “I dunno, pal, you seem pretty… ‘Full Goblin’ right now.” The bigger man grumbled. “I don’t think I can just hand someone over to you. That feels… human trafficky. No can do, bro.”

  “Come on… Nub killing. Is just…. Housekeeping.” The goblin wheedled and chided, with a hungry look in his eye.

  “Trash is what I’m asking for… nub good. That human is rotten.” He insisted.

  “I like you, Ghnash, but I’m responsible for those dirtbags.” I should go sort them out, I suppose.” He glanced over to the ‘slave pen’ encampment on the upper end of his little peninsula between the rivers and lake.

  “I feel like I’m in deep water and don’t know which way is up.”

  The poor folks in the big encampment got nervous and jumpy if left without work to do, so they had been put to tending to each-other, largely. Now the collared people traded off serving and awkwardly being served, as the duties of living, like laundry and cooking got taken care of in a roundabout and pretty inefficient way.

  They had no complaints against being fed mostly grain porridge and monster meat… they seemed delighted, in fact. Just as they received the simple clothing and bedding with humility and gratitude. Way too much gratitude, Gary avoided the pen and any of the collared people whenever he could. It was all feeling super violating, creepy and beyond gross. Under the bondage of the collar of enslavement, they could no more run away or start trouble than they could fly by tugging on their sandal straps. By the same token, even the slightest kindness or decency would send them to their knees in praise of their benevolent master…

  “I too struggle there, brother. I hate how my vassals kiss my ass too.” Ghnash muttered. “Gotta get used to it. You is a lord now, kinda.”

  “Thanks, I hate it!” The musician complained.

  The collared moved freely around the campus and even the town, so long as they considered themselves to be working. Once they finished, the poor souls were magnetically drawn back to their camp to await a new task. As such, the gates stood open and people moved about freely and in a disturbingly orderly manner.

  The legion had less freedom by far and their camp was much more secure. The legionnaires were only allowed out only in small groups and always supervised by veteran warbands of the count’s own guard or from the five hundred warriors duke Belen sent over the pass, arriving two days after the battle finished.

  One thousand men were a big problem, even if they were all absolutely certain that pushing too far would bring the huge slave horde crashing down on them.

  There was a constant influx of contraband, many brawls, more than a few shankings with sharpened sticks and a number of… non consensual encounters among their own cohort. That was super… icky, but count Liam had responsibility for those guys, officially. They were just housed on the family compound, so the count’s men hauled the troublemakers away and that was not his problem.

  That double standard felt super gross too… Gary knew that he wouldn’t just hand the lords back anymore.. He was stuck with those assholes, just like he was stuck with those poor slaves.

  In contrast, the templars had proved relatively docile, once the complainers, lords and ‘true belted knights’ received the ‘special accommodations’ due their lofty ranks. Once silence collared and staked out in what the count’s men were now calling ‘the chicken yard’ their lordships caused little trouble.

  “I want those legion guys out of my hair first. They and the templars are wildcards.” Gary grumbled, eying off the three unwieldy and awful camps.

  Even with his absurd magical fuckery, having that many people in such close quarters was awful… and his food stores were getting beat up badly.

  “Bad men are bad and cannot be allowed to roam… certainly not in large groups! They will begin banditry, slave raiding or start their cult up here, if you get softy squishy in the headbone and release them!” Ghnash insisted.

  “Your duke trusts you have a plan… but nub nub. Dumb dumb Fool counts on dumb luck! Just fumbling in darkness and hoping nothing with fangs fumbles back. Nubgood. Talk to the Tarots… they have handled things like this before, just never so damn damn many!”

  “Yeah, I’ve been avoiding them for a day or two now. I don’t wanna get into a whole thing over this. Some of them are pretty murdery.”

  “You have sugar wasps in these woods… They can take those filthy slaver lords as slaves. I think this is poetic and will keep them out of trouble until they die of old age, blissfully laboring for the queens.” Ghnash suggested.

  “Is a kinder fate than the lords who prosper under the cult deserve. Hive slaves love their work and serve a useful purpose. They even get paid! The human hive slaves receive honey! Is very valuable and precious!”

  “Slaves, Ghnash…” Gary complained again.

  GoblinHome has many Sugar wasp hives.” He nodded firmly.

  “Wasp slavery is like hippy druggy commune, mixed with prison farm, but no buttrape, no fighting and no guards. Just a sting, then eternal labor and bliss.”

  “I’m no slave trader…” Gary began, as his insides flip-flopped unpleasantly. “That really feels like an easy answer. I’m suspicious of easy answers, Ghnash, even from you.”

  He shook his shaggy head sadly and sighed in deep weariness. “I’m under no illusions, those lords, clerics, knights and warriors are mostly scum. They are a product of their cult and culture, but that’s a feeble excuse for the crimes the cult commits on the daily.” He shrugged.

  “But there’s so many of them…”

  “Yes yes, there must be some few salvageable humans out there… Even a barrel of rotten apples may have a few unblemished fruits remaining… but can you find them amidst the slime, maggots and flies? How to sort them out and do you even have the right?” Ghnash smiled at his huge brother.

  “This is a path that has been walked before. Seek guidance from our brothers. Only one is certainly a fool.” He grinned at Gary and shook his head.

  “Ask the Tarots… or speak to your familiar. Kree is a daughter spirit of the sugar wasp empress.” The goblin huffed at last. “I like you, brother, but needless to say, you are a Fool. I do not wish to see your home become a battlefield, but the armies have assembled and they only await the trumpet’s call.” He grinned wolfishly.

  “Or have you assembled a bonfire and are waiting for a spark? I think not. You have no taste for slaughter and bloodshed.”

  Ghnash bowed slightly to Gary, which felt odd and a little bit like he was taking the piss; then the little guy vanished, Saying: “I have many goblin wives to stuff full. I will return soon… I’ll need the rest.”

  /

  “Ready, team?” Amy asked sweetly, as her ad hoc Adventure band formed up on their bikes.

  “Are you sure about this, Ames? I don’t know if your folks…” Benny began.

  “My mom ordered me to ‘take care of this’ issue. That means we are taking care of this issue.” This is getting dangerous and ridiculous, those legion asshats are getting super twitchy and their fear of my dad and his army is going to wear thin.”

  “Time to do something drastic…” Wilf rumbled from behind his armored demon faced mask. “And maybe a little crazy.” Without further conversation six armored riders silently rolled out into the gathering darkness, onto the Port Rummel road.

  “Come on, gang. We have lots to prepare.” She sighed to her remaining minions.

  “Larry, your team is going to be working with Wheel of Fortune and Ace. My section is all about distraction and obfuscation. Stay loose, stick to the plan and stay in touch.”

  Benny, Perry, Gandree and a number of assorted Garies all nodded silently and whisked away on their assigned tasks, while The remaining trio of Daisybelle, Amy and the Star headed for the main house, looking grimly determined.

  /

  “We have requested the assistance of one of our… associate members.” Hermit mumbled awkwardly, dancing in the fading evening light, beside the grotto pool where Gary was soaking, in hopes of alleviating his miserable and constant nausea and itchy skin.

  “The Hive is one of us… but she has ‘gone native’ as it were. She is not like the rest of us, she is mysterious and queer… unpredictable and dangerous…”

  Hermit fell still at the foolish, sarcastic and deeply accurate scoff from the soggy madman among the water weeds and hyacinths. “You just described all of us, buddy. Why don’t you get in the bath? It won’t hurt you.”

  “I have bathed in this pool and others like it… I have upsetting dreams afterward.” He mumbled in a soft shoe sand dance that was so embarrassed and shy, Gary stifled his grin of smug triumph out of pity for the poor spider.

  “Dreams, huh?” He asked, sounding only slightly pleased with himself. “Tell me about them, if you wish… I’m a terrible listener so your secrets will be safe.”

  “A being has been haunting my dreams for some time… An entity that disturbs my balance and shakes my internal discipline.” He danced slowly and carefully. “I am a dangerous arboreal predator. A layer of snares and a stalker in darkness, possessed of an instinctive drive to hunt and a ravenous hunger… A predator who preys on man sized, bipedal forest apes, in his natural environment. I think you understand what that means, yes?”

  “Oh, yeah… that’s… ok. So tell me about this being that is disturbing you. Maybe I can help.” He smiled very smugly indeed. “I’m kinda an expert in such things.”

  “I am under the gaze of a spirit entity, she desires my… attention. She is relentless.” He grumbled, but there was no anger or even any real displeasure behind his slick, tight, moonwalk and rumpshaking cabbage patch.

  “Wow… nice moves. She’s got you all tangled up… Lady Thirp I assume?” He grinned at the massive spider and nodded. “Ghnash and I are pretty tight. He’s worried about you and he knows Thirp too. He’s her high priest in his domain now, you know?” Gary sank lower in the water and blew a few bubbles for a moment. When he arose again, he spoke quickly and firmly.

  “I’m not one for religion, but Thirp is family. She’s been there with me all along, solid and absolutely loyal… To her god, her cult and to her friends and loved ones. I would accept her Contract in a second, if I could.”

  Gary sank back down in the water, as if his speech had been exhausting.

  “She does not wish to Contract with me…” Hermit muttered, his tapdance was so understated, it was hard to hear his taps or ‘hear’ as speech.

  “No Contract? So what does she want?” The Fool asked, seeming deeply confused. The spider just shifted and fidgeted, the arachnid equivalent of incoherent mumbling and evasion. “Come on, man… just say it. We’re brothers, this is a safe place.”

  “She desires me.” He answered in clipped and uncomfortable moves that were not even slightly cool or awesome. “Physically… Carnally.”

  “Oh!” The Fool muttered with unconcealed delight.

  “Don’t tell Shai, but I’ve always thought that Thirp is a total smokeshow… A real hottie with the sweetest personality. You’re a lucky guy!” His merry little one man party boat ran aground a moment later.

  “Wait…” He muttered, looking confused. “She’s a deity, an immortal, non corporeal spider goddess…”

  “Yes… and also a spider.” Hermit answered flatly.

  “Bro… I hate to break it to you…” Gary began, suddenly feeling very foolish indeed.

  “Fucking idiot! I know I’m a spider too! Gods! Why am I talking about this with you?” The huge arachnid boogied down and shook it all around, making his displeasure known with some sick moves.

  “You’re worse than Ghnash’s wives!”

  “We really need to visit them at home…” Gary mused thoughtfully, contemplating Ghnash’s frequent and fond descriptions of the place… Well, mostly he went on about his vast harem of sexy, long eared, goblin babes.

  “Focus up, man!” Hermit grumbled with a distinctly odd dance move that only distracted Gary further from the core issue.

  “Was that the running man, with eight legs? Hypnotic!”

  “Feels like I’m talking to Chelsea…” The spider complained bitterly. “Try telling me about king Ghnash’s ‘Mighty Baby-Stick’ in exacting detail to complete the illusion…”

  “She sounds fun!” The madman chuckled merrily. “Notice how you’re no longer stressing over the sweet, sexy spider goddess that wants your nuts?” He asked, through a smile too smug to be forgiven.

  “I told you, I’m good at this.”

  “I’m doomed… Doomed to be haunted forever by a goddess that is obsessed with me.” Hermit sighed sadly.

  “Dude, relax… Once I get myself sorted out some, we’ll have a sit down and talk this all out. Until then, let her meet you in your dreams… I promise, she’s super sweet.” Gary sighed, sinking back into the water.

  “I think you should dip in the pool, meditate for a while and then go to sleep. If she comes to you, talk to her. She will respect your boundaries and personal wishes…” He fixed the huge, deadly predator with a glare that made Hermit’s silk gland curdle a little.

  “If you hurt her, I have a newspaper big enough for the job.” He pointed to the far corner of the grotto and grinned madly

  Over by the door, in a stand that was clearly made just for the thing, stood a truly enormous, hilariously upsized, rolled up copy of the New York Times, announcing Neil Armstrong’s moon landing.

  “You are very strange, brother Fool.” The spider sighed, as he slipped into the water with the thing that was certainly his most unusual brother… and definitely not a real human being at all.

  “You get used to it…” He sighed happily. “I tell everybody that at first.” He raised his hands from the water, fingers spread wide and waggling in weird and unsettling ways. “By the time they realize it’s a lie, they’ve gotten used to it.” He kept the finger thing going long enough to make it awkward and a little weird.

  “Spooky witchcraft!” The madman intoned in a scary ghost voice, straight from a kid’s halloween party record.

  /