Book: 4

  Chapter 10

  Walking On The Moon

  A man, a goblin and the god of War stood on the barren surface of the moon, among the dusty, airless craters having a lively argument for a good long time, while the globe of Goblinhome slowly rotated below… or above, whatever.

  “...I never gave your ass a piece of my mind at the time, cause I was too busy blasting you into space with all your little friends.” The musician scolded War, driving the gigantic, blood drenched figure back across the blasted plain of grit, craters and shattered stone.

  “You useless cunt! You and your friend spent gods only know how long, knuckle deep in my ass, finger puppeting me for your jollies and you want me to just turn you loose? Eat a dick, ass-hole!”

  “Now now, brother. They did what they did, because they cared nothing for any mortal’s life or soul… None of us matter to this turd; which is why you should just walk away and leave him with me.” Ghnash murmured quietly. “I’ll straighten him out, or I’ll feed him to the god that slumbers in the heart of this world. Your troll ghost is going to be helpful there, too.”

  They ignored War’s interjections, complaints and protests, as the god slowly deflated and shrank, becoming a goblin sized during a short conversation. The man and goblin hugged briefly and parted ways, The human shaped one wandered off and slipped through a leafy hedge that only existed for a moment, leaving the goblin and the greatly diminished divine alone at last. Only the drifting shade of Ticklefoot the troll lingered nearby, insensate and mindlessly drifting over the barren rocks and dust.

  “This must be rough on you…” He remarked casually. “Being held against your will by entities that care not how much, or how long you suffer. Nor do we care how much of you remains intact, when we are done with you.”

  “Filthy monster! I led my legions of mortals for centuries, as they slew your kin in uncounted numbers!” He roared at the small, green witch-doctor. “The blood of your tainted race has spilled across my minions’ blades in a tide that could wash this world away!”

  “Yeah… Fuck you for that, dick-weed.” Ghnash remarked casually, while strolling around War and smiling. “Your friends cursed and enslaved my whole species for fun and sexy torture-murder games. The tides of blood and other… fluids of all sorts; human, goblin and all the others that spilled across this and other worlds are on your hands. How will you take responsibility for that?” The king demanded sharply.

  “God do not answer to…” The divine being blustered and raged at his captor.

  “Oh? You don’t answer to mortals? Or to goblins?” He asked with an evil smirk. “My body is sleeping right now, nestled in among my wives in bed, soft and fragrant… The bed and the girls both, buddy. I’m done talking to you, but we aren’t done yet.” He yawned massively as he began to fade from the lunar surface.

  “You’re coming with me, pal.” The goblin’s clawed hand dropped on War’s shoulder and took away a tiny, infinitesimal fragment of the god’s essence in his hand. With a sly grin, he popped the miniscule glowing bead into his mouth and swallowed it down.

  /

  Ghnash woke from his slumber when Joan climbed into his nest, among the sleeping goblin wives and his two queens snuggled in close. Chelsea and Sabrina each had an arm and clung fiercely when he struggled to roll over or move at all, which was nice. Their firm, swelling bellies pressed against him, sending waves of warmth and comfort washing over his body.

  “King Ghnash…” The welcome intruder whispered softly, causing the queens to stir and cling tighter to their mate. “Ghnash has time for me?”

  “Always, darling. I just need to escape.” He whispered softly, during the delicate extraction operation already in progress. “I’m up anyway.”

  “I saw… is why I spoke.” She mumbled eagerly, eying the impressive tent in the royal bedding. “I has tummytime, great king…” She purred, taking his hand and leading him out into the garden, once the king freed himself from his still sleeping mates’ grasping hands.

  “Outside, under the stars with my Joan…” He purred warmly, glancing up at the moon, sharp,silver and thin, high above. “Let’s find out if tonight is our lucky night, baby. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

  /

  War had some familiarity with the procreative rites of mortal beings, though he’d never paid any attention. That was Dana’s particular area of expertise and a realm where his native talents served poorly, if at all. What awareness of the process he held, related to far less… consensual acts, performed in his name and under his aegis.

  Now, as a reluctant and nonconsenting party to the activities his new captor was enjoying with a very eager and active co-conspirator, War gained a slight measure of insight. Sweaty, messy, drooling, exhausting and exhilarating insights into how things could be, should be and would be, far more frequently, without the influence of war. Locked behind the goblin king’s senses and carried along unwillingly on his nightly errands, War’s battered mind cried out for rest and the peaceful, quiet of his prison on the moon. He needed time to think… something he usually avoided.

  /

  “Noisy up on the hill tonight…” Gandree remarked, when two, synchronized feral howls of pleasure shook the king’s castle, reverberating in harmony from the garden and shaking the rocky prominence looming over the town.

  “Auntie Joan is in town to get stuffed by King Ghnash. She really wants one of his pups bad.” Daisybelle purred, gnawing on her boy’s ear to focus his attention where it belonged… on her. “Play me something to dance to…” She barked with a wide giggly smile on her lips. “Then I’ll make you howl just like that.”

  “Fair trade, love. Fair trade!” The dwarf mumbled through a wide smile.

  /

  Eventually, king Ghnash slipped into normal, mortal sleep, releasing the divine from his unclean spell with a slow, easy sensation of relaxed satisfaction that was intolerably smug and entirely undeserved.

  War seethed and stomped around in a circle, tramping the gritty lunar dust beneath his armored boots with a slow crunching sound, even in the airless wastes of his otherwise silent prison.

  “Hey, buddy…” Marduk murmured gently as he emerged from a hedgerow that vanished without a sign or trace as he exited the leafy barrier.

  “How ya doin? Have a rough night?” The beautiful, childlike, golden haired god asked his brother. “I’ve been there, trapped behind a mortal’s senses. It’s jarring and a little scary, but you suffered no harm; moreover, I think you’ve been exposed to several new ideas that will slowly become clear to you over the next few days and nights.”

  “Days and nights…” War complained sourly at the tiny god’ who now stood ever so slightly taller than the god of conflict and strife. “I’m trapped here, revolving above an alien world, shackled to a primitive, animalistic creature of low breeding and unrefined nature…”

  “Almost like you’ve been defeated in battle and taken as a slave, that’s an interesting idea… Don’t you think?” Knowledge asked sweetly, while his brother fumed angrily and kicked a stone off into the endless void. “You allowed this practice among your worshippers for many centuries!” He remarked with feigned surprise on his face. “You even actively participated in the Contracting of non-consenting children, in uncounted numbers over endless gulfs of time.”

  “That’s different! They are mortals! Ours to use and spend as we will!” War roared into the empty sky of alien stars around the slowly rising globe of Earth, while Goblinhome slipped out of sight. “That is our divine right!” His final bellow shook the uncanny, jewel bright stars of Goblinhome, each one a fractional world of its own, gestating in the ether, beyond ‘actual-real-space’ in the endless void beyond the infinite stars of one of the many, many ‘real’ universes drifting across everything, everywhere.

  “You don’t see it yet; but you will soon, brother. I believe in you and so does sister Dana, even if no one else does.” Marduk smiled, when a change came over his angry sibling at the mention of the Healer.

  “Yes, sweet sister Dana is also facing a strange new world; and is not handling it with her usual grace and mercy. She is struggling with several of these same issues as we speak, in that you have so much in common.”

  “She mentioned me?” War asked softly, finding a voice fit for conversation, rather than a parade ground or battlefield, at last. “Did she ask about me?”

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  “Brother, she has received no clue or hint that you still exist, only faith in you that remains unshaken.” Marduk sighed sadly. “She will not meet with me and is unwilling to approach the mortal who holds you prisoner. I’m afraid my young Fool handled her quite roughly, last time she tried to contact his family.”

  “He did what?” War roared, once more shaking the void with his mighty bellow.

  “I’ll come speak to you again soon. In the meantime, you still have access to Gary’s… the Fool’s memories, in this place. Take a stroll through his experiences over the last two decades of his short, mortal life, perhaps you will find the answers you seek… Answers to questions you have not yet fully formed in your mind.”

  “Traipsing through this filthy thing’s mind? For what; to what end?” War sputtered and fumed at the retreating back of Marduk.

  “Time means little here. Study diligently and grow in new directions, brother of mine… Start at the beginning; that is where real meaning and true growth can be found.” The white robed god vanished in a swirl of leaves and thorny briars, as if he’d never been there at all.

  “Fucking nerd!” War grumbled, as he sat down on a jagged rock and began snooping around in his captor’s memories and senses.

  /

  Marduk slipped through the hedge, joining his friends on the other side, where the grass grew deep and lush under the timeless starlight of the Madman’s moon. The tall, red roofed in on the hill subtly loomed over everything, now that the Fool, the home’s true master, could return.

  “Honey, I’m home from visiting the neighbor! Fetch tea and cakes to comfort your hardworking mate, after his labors!” The childlike god demanded with pomposity and grandiose dignity.

  Eponna chuffed and flicked her mane across his face as she wrapped her long, muscular neck around her tiny beloved. “Silly god, I’ll bite you someplace tender if you ever dare order me about.” Her warm, horsey breath ran down his collar, making him shiver all over with a very mortal pleasure.

  /

  “Mortal pleasures… That was always my biggest worry.” Necro murmured over dinner with his new friends and his wife. “I was denied this for so long, I began to fear the idea of taking on flesh once more…” He explained slowly and carefully to the rulers of Foresthome, in their lovely, if rustic dining hall of cut stone and rough hewn rafters.

  “For many centuries I existed without true sensation, as the living know it. Pleasure or pain were as unattainable as the distant stars above, without flesh and blood, nerves or skin.” He savored a morsel of salt grilled lake trout and mushroom risotto, then sighed at the mild, rich flavors.

  “I feared I would lose myself to sensation and become something horrible, after so long in the Endless Halls of the dead. Most of the undead and undying become slaves to their appetites, as the energies of life’s ending slowly dissolve their sentient minds away.” He paused to savor a glass of pear cider, before continuing.

  “This is marvelous… My compliments to your staff, lady Trelawny.” He remarked with a smile of genuine pleasure that was so familiar from Gary’s face…

  “Understandably, our kitchen staff have all fled in the wake of recent events… Liam and I prepared this meal for you, I’m afraid.” Tawny nodded and chuckled wryly at the all too familiar pair seated across the humble table. “If we might dispense with the formalities, I would be grateful. We are kin and closer than kin, in many ways, I suppose.”

  Her significant glance was aimed at the beautiful woman seated beside the Necromancer. Lianna Kines could have been Trelawny’s older sister, so alike in face, feature, figure and manner were the two beautiful women who had only very recently met.

  “Oh, thank the stars, I’m dying here!” Lianna gasped, sagging against her awkward and oddly rigid husband. “Mister scary Necromancer has been insufferable lately. I need some fresh air and a little swordplay to stay sharp!”

  “No swords til after lunch.” Tawny scolded her older double gently. “Insufferable, all of you. Gary… I mean, Necro…” Tawny stammered, losing much of her usual glib charm in the face of her multifarious and fractional friend.

  “I’m the only Gary here, for now… It feels good to be called by my name.” He mumbled shyly, while Lianna tousled his already messy hair and grinned.

  “He hates being called Chariot, Necro or Necromancer… The big goofball.” Lianna cooed gently at her massive husband and sighed. “You need to lighten up, Gary. Live a little and for the star’s sake, have a dance with me this evening.”

  She turned to Tawny and Liam with a conspiratorial wink. “He seldom dances and when he does, it’s awful… like he has a stone in his left shoe, rather than a foot.”

  “Oh, yes! Our Gary was the same when he…. Arrived! I guess you were badly maimed in your previous mortal incarnation and developed several faults in your gait and movement.” The golden priestess murmured fondly at the big stranger wearing her friend’s face.

  “Poor Shai worked so hard, beating all that hunching, limping and shuffling out of hers. It was quite a trial for the poor dear, I can tell you! She managed it, though!”

  “I shall have to inquire after her methods, when next we meet…” Lianna purred dangerously, a wicked smile on her perfect, pink lips, just like the one on Tawny’s. “But now, I’m for testing your husband’s blade in the courtyard. My fool of a husband assures me I’ll be pleased with the results.”

  The scent of sun-warmed granite and dusty clay filled the warm, still air of the castle courtyard, as a few spectators gathered for the bout. Becky, her husband Kermal and a few other friends watched with interest and in complete silence, studying the two combatants’ every move. Only the rattle and clatter of split bamboo training swords filled the wide courtyard training ground, as the two warriors battled, wide grins on both faces.

  Across the court, the Necromancer and Tawny enjoyed iced tea in the shade, chatting like old school chums, while their respective spouses beat the stuffing out of each other in the hot summer sunshine.

  Liam and Lianna battled over the dusty yard again and again, driving each other back and forth with ferocious intensity and breathtaking speed, clouds of colored chalk flying each time their blades met over the long, sweaty afternoon. In the end, both bore numerous marks where the ‘blades’ had struck their protective training armor, leaving evidence of the hit. Neither bore any major ‘wounds’ on their sweaty cloth and bamboo armor, just a myriad of minor touches that left the outcome hazy and indecipherable. Both combatants were battered, bruised and grinning like complete morons, when they sank down onto the benches in the shade among the spectators.

  “So, who won?” Tawny asked mildly, while tutting over her battered husband’s many scuffs, scrapes and bruises. “You both look a frightful mess.” The countess’ gentle scolding mirrored the soft-spoken conversation happening down the bench, where Lianna suffered Necro’s far less skilled ministrations with good humor.

  “Ouch! Carefully, you great, looming oaf!” She scolded her bumbling, clumsy giant merrily. “Hamfisted-lout of a husband! Take some lessons from Tawny, ‘ere I get myself injured and must suffer your ministrations in truth!”

  “Sorry…” The giant mumbled, as Tawny finished her patient and took over for her mad new friend, dabbing a violet colored ointment on Lianna’s minor scrapes.

  “Don’t let her bully you, Gary! These two are more dusty than injured… Grown folks, behaving like children, scuffling in the dust.” She chided the pair, her elbow linked with the deeply uncomfortable Necromancer’s as she sweetly berated the chalk coated duo. “Playing with toy swords in this heat…” She scoffed at her husband and his new playmate.

  “Good point, Tawny… Care to try live steel, Lianna? I have a selection of blades to choose from.” Liam offered mildly, drawing a groan of discomfort from Tawny.

  “Gods above and below… I knew I should have given those damned things back to Gary!” Tawny grumbled while her husband opened the armory door, revealing his collection of pointy things.

  “Live steel? Are you joking or completely mad?” Lianna asked, while following along anyway; because she was just as much a sword-brained fool as the count of Foresthome.

  They walked down racks of spears, arming swords, shields and other standard gear, to a corner near the door, where a second, locked door stood in the wall. The count opened that heavy, iron strapped door, revealing a closet of wondrous things; shining steel, brass and bronze, hand rubbed wood and glittering ornaments adorned every inch of wall, rack and shelf space. The count indicated a small selection of swords in a separate rack, each one marked with white paint on guard and pommel and bearing elaborately engraved blades covered with runes and glyphs from tip to hilt.

  “Enchanted training swords… They hurt like the real thing, but leave no wounds behind. Gary… our Gary made them years ago for training.” Liam announced with a smile of pride and pleasure. “We can slice each other to ribbons and then have a bath and a snack.” The obnoxiously handsome lord offered with a cheeky grin.

  “One safety matter must be addressed first. Necro… I mean Gary, you in particular must not touch these weapons. In your hands they will be as deadly as any keen edged blade.” Liam warned soberly, his jollity vanished entirely for the moment.

  “It’s a quirk of the enchantment, he stumbled on this spell while creating weapons to combat the undead, immaterial and undying.”

  “Fascinating…” Necro mumbled, suddenly very interested in the shiny, pointy things on display. “May I examine one, when you are finished hacking at each other?”

  “Sorry, I can’t allow that. Nerd-boy.” Liam remarked with pleasure, as he selected a blade, once Lianna had chosen one that was to her liking. “This is gonna be awesome.” He sighed happily.

  Lianna swept hilted saber sang and whistled as she took a few practice cuts in the yard, warming up for her bout with the handsome young lord. “Really? Magic swords that can’t cut flesh or break bones?” She demanded one last time. “No padding or armor?”

  In answer, Liam plunged his blade into his own thigh, skewering his leg through, before withdrawing a clean blade from unbroken skin. No blood marked his clothing, only a small hole where the blade had cleanly cut cloth, while passing through flesh.

  “Hurts like hell…” He grumbled, limping in a circle until the phantom pain subsided. “But in a second or two, any wound that’s not immediately lethal fades away. Mortal wounds end the fun, since most people pass out from shock and pain.”

  Lady Lianna shrugged and stabbed her own shapely thigh, precisely where the young lord had wounded himself.

  “Oww! Fucking Shit-nuggets of blazing piss!” The countess barked, raising Tawny’s eyebrows and drawing a laugh from her husband, while Necro remained un-amused by his wife’s antics. “That’s awfully authentic!”

  “Gary… Our Gary insists that the enchantment remain a closely guarded secret, I’m afraid you will need to ask his permission.” Tawny murmured in the Necromancer’s ear, during the warmup phase of the next foolish act of the two warriors’ stupid play. “He worries what evil might be done with a blade that inflicts pain without physical harm… I’m sure you understand.”

  “I’ve been fighting the Light cult and their slavers for several centuries now… I know exactly what you mean, Tawny.” He answered soberly, a dark look in his eyes.

  “Now, let’s watch the idiots we love, slice each other to ribbons; shall we?”

  The much anticipated duel ended quickly, brutally and without a clear ‘winner’ at the end. Both combatants fell at almost exactly the same time; Lianna run entirely through her heart and Liam cleft from collar to sternum. Tawny tutted and fussed, while she removed the weapons from the unconscious warriors and ignored Necro’s frantic worrying.

  In under a minute, both stirred and began staggering to their feet, rubbing at the spots where they had been wounded. Soon, both were sitting unsteadily in the shade, stress, exertion and the heat having more lingering effects than the vicious battle they had so recently finished.

  “Good fun, cousin Liam… We shall come calling again soon, I’m sure!” Lianna remarked, when she had full control of her lungs. “Now let’s see that bath you were mentioning earlier.”

  Beside the castle, on a patch of land where a storehouse or barracks once stood, Becky’s victorian, gingerbread home of lilac and purple shingles stood. Less expansive than the Fool’’s inn and lacking his vast gardens, Beck’s home boasted an outdoor hotspring bath. Unlike her brother’s pool of uncanny liquid; Becky’s pool had no mystical properties beyond mundane, hot, soothing, mineral rich waters, which was more than enough for the weary warriors and the equally exhausted spectators.

  “A soul home is truly the rarest of gifts…” Necro remarked later, with a damp cloth folded neatly atop his head, as they soaked away the day’s weariness. “Your family has so many, have you discovered some secret art?” He gazed in unconcealed wonder at the small, neatly kept garden and the elegant house standing nearby.

  “I kinda ‘inherited’ mine from Gary… the Fool, I mean. Just like Shai and the kids developed theirs from prolonged contact with him.” Becky explained quietly.

  “He was a real mess when he showed up and kinda infected us with his weird gifts. The damage to his soul and mind made him deeply weird in some pretty unexplainable ways… I’m sure you understand how that goes, mister undying, ageless, skeleton-dragon-wizard.”

  “Fair point, Becky, a fair point indeed.” He agreed with a smile of his own.

  “You should stay with us tonight, all of you.” Kermal urged the soaking count, countesses and necromancer in the bath. “We have plenty of room and your castle is…”

  “Drafty, clammy, half ruined and rustic?” Tawny offered helpfully. “Renovations to this historic structure take time.. Too much time, husband.”

  Liam winced under her attack and agreed. “Very well, we happily accept, Becky.” His reluctance was all an act, the bedding in any of the Ward family’s homes was always extraordinarily luxurious, not being entirely real.