Samantha sat on a large rock at the edge of a lake. Bob sat in the air beside her as their horses grazed on the lush grass.

A flat stone rose into Bob’s hand, and he threw it at the lake. It skipped several times before sinking into its depths.

“Not bad,” Sam commented. “Between riding horses, skipping rocks and stumbling through lessons in how to use that sword the King gave you, you might actually start to be almost athletic.”

“Your confidence is inspiring,” Bob laughed. “You know, speaking of the King, I have never before been as honored as I was that day.”

“Neither have I,” Sam admitted. “I still get a bit choked up thinking about it.”

Bob hovered over to the boulder Sam was perched upon and he descended next to her. They watched the waves lap the shore for several minutes, reminiscing. Sam suddenly reached for her pack on the ground next to her.

“I wonder what it was that Mom gave me,” she said. “I never got around to opening it. This seems to be as secluded a place as any.”

Sam pulled the small bundle from her pack and sliced through the string binding it with her dagger. She turned away from Bob, so he couldn’t see.

“Why are you hiding it?” Bob asked.

“Mom has a history of giving me clothes that she thinks flatter me, but they don’t,” she answered. “I’m making sure before you see it.”

There was a rustle of paper and a gasp of surprise.

“Oh, my…” Sam said. “I think my mom really likes you.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, craning his neck trying to see around Sam’s shoulders.

“Because,” Sam answered as she turned to face him, “this is what she gave me.”

She held up two bits of fabric between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and a long sheet of fabric in the other.

“What is that?” Bob asked. “A hanky?”

Sam gave a very uncharacteristic feminine giggle.

“No,” she laughed, “it’s underwear and a robe.”

“But they’re teeny,” Bob said, “and transparent. What makes you think she likes me when she gave you those?”

Sam raised the robe in front of her chest and looked at Bob with a raised eyebrow. Bob looked at her through the gauzy material before replying.

“Oh, good heavens!” He exclaimed.

Sam laughed at him as she carefully returned the gift to her pack. She hopped from the rock and stretched, arching her back.

“You about ready to head out?” she asked. “As pretty as it is here, we still have a lot of daylight left.”

“Sure,” Bob answered, joining her. They began to walk to the lakeshore to gather the horses.

The silence was broken by a group of shouts, and the pair quickly found themselves surrounded. They stood back to back.  Sam drew her sword drawn in a flash, Bob drew his in a fumble.

“All righty, folks,” said the apparent leader of the group, pacing in front of them, “We are the toll collectors for this stretch of road. So just hand over all your valuables and your toll is paid and we can all go along our merry way.”

“Toll collectors,” Sam said calmly to Bob. “I don’t feel like paying any tolls today.”

“Oh, I wholeheartedly agree,” Bob nodded. “They really should post signs for a toll road. It certainly isn’t our fault if they don’t effectively advertise.”

“Oh just shut the hell up and give us your money,” the leader ordered, advancing on the pair.

“Tell you what,” Sam said to Bob, “if you take out more of them than I do, I’ll let you see what that ‘hanky’ looks like when properly used.”

“Milady,” Bob said with a wide grin, “you have yourself a bet!”

Bob dropped his sword and threw his hands in the air. The bandits were quickly flung screaming over the lake until they splashed on the far side.

“I win,” Bob said.

“You cheated,” Sam countered while sheathing her blade. “You didn’t even use your sword.”

“You never said how I had to take them out,” Bob argued as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Therefore, I win.”

“So you do,” Sam agreed as she kissed him.

- – - The End – - -

The morning sun was shining down into the courtyard. The people of the Kingdom were gathered, those that weren’t injured or caring for the injured. They all looked tired, and they looked anxiously to the parapet outside the Kings great hall.

The King had addressed them the night before, telling them the threat was over and that the gates would stay closed for the night as a precaution. He had ordered his subjects to rest, an order that was not easily filled. He had promised details this morning, and they all wanted to know what their future held.

The crowd turned their weary faces to the King as stepped out and addressed them.

“People of Rom, we have emerged from the threat to our kingdom victorious. The Prince is dead, as is the former Court Magician. The Chancellor now permanently resides in the dungeon of this very castle.”

A meager cheer emerged from the crowd. The people were happy about this news, but too exhausted to show the proper enthusiasm.

“The enemy,” the King continued, “our former enemy is encamped in the forest outside. They have asked for sanctuary here among us. They are the troops which were held in reserve. Not a single man among them raised a hand against us in the actual battle. None of them are responsible for the death of any member of your families. As such, I have decided to grant them the sanctuary they have asked for, under certain conditions. We have lost almost half of the members of our army that did not leave with the Prince. We have gained over four times as many from the surrender of the opposing force. They have been presented with our terms, and they have unanimously agreed to each of them.

“The terms of their surrender are as follows: One, that their forces will be divided in half. One half will serve in our standing army, not only as soldiers, but as instructors as well. I have learned from this experience that our kingdom is not prepared for any attack from the outside, or from within. These men will help rectify this situation, guaranteeing our safety.

“Second; the other half of the men will be a labor force. They will be rebuilding farm houses and barns, and planting and cultivating crops alongside you. Those families who have lost members will be the primary recipients of this help.

“Third, and last, these men will swap roles every year, the labor force becoming the military force, and the military men shouldering the burden of labor. Those men who choose to continue under these terms for ten years will be granted a parcel of land for their own inside our kingdom.

“I must remind you, good people of Rom, that these men are not responsible for your past suffering. I expect that they will be treated with respect, and any person who attempts vengeance against these men will be punished under the laws of our kingdom. These men want the same things you do, to live their lives in peace, working towards prosperity.”

King Ronald beamed out as the sea of faces before continuing.

“I am proud of this country. You all rose to her defense when you could easily have abandoned her. For that, I am proud of her citizens. I vow to you now that I will do my utmost to deserve that loyalty by being a good and just King. All policies that were implemented prior to this war shall remain in place. I am King, and I could order you all to do this, but I want to be fair. Any person who is opposed to this plan may come to me today and I and my advisers shall do our best to alleviate any concerns. I shall be in the Throne Room all day, ready to hear you out. First thing tomorrow, barring any significant objections, the gates shall be opened and you can return to your homes. Our new citizens will be allowed entry, and we shall begin our preparations for the future. A feast will be held here, in the courtyard, tomorrow night to reward you, and to welcome our new citizens. As your king, I thank you.”

Ronald vanished from view behind the draperies into the hall. He stopped and listened for a moment before a ragged cheer emerged from the crowd, which slowly gained strength until the walls shook. The King sighed in relief before turning to the people who had assisted him.

“Well,” Bob told him with a smile, “it would appear that our work here is done.”

“Thank you all,” Ronald beamed at them. “I have no doubt that without your assistance I would be the one locked in the dungeon right now, and that’s a best case scenario.”

“Well, I think I’ll stick around a while,” Lilly told him, “just to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Who do you think you’re kidding, you horny old bat?” Tink demanded. “The only thing you’re gonna make sure of is that ol’ Ronny here wont be able to keep the front of his royal robes smooth!”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little pixie head about what I’m going to be doing for the King,” Lilly responded with a huge grin.

“Woman, haven’t you learned a damn thing?” Tink asked through gritted teeth. “What have I continually told you about calling me a goddamn pixie?”

“That it’s your favorite thing ever?” Lilly asked with mock innocence.

“No!” Tink retorted. “Don’t you forget that I killed a man yesterday that called me a pixie, don’t you ever forget that!”

“I sincerely doubt that you will give us the opportunity, Tink,” Bob teased her.

“Wanda and I will be staying here,” Charles told his daughter. “Rupert as well. Ronald has given us a plot of land in return for continuing to be his military consultant and Wanda really likes having a staff to boss around.”

“And it keeps her from yelling at you all the time…” Sam noted.

“I never said that,” Charles smiled.

“I have to stay on for a while, too,” Tink said. “I have to help the King find an honest Chancellor of the Exchequer. Will you stay with me, Sam?”

“I think I am going to go check on the Ladies of the Chain-mail Bikini,” she answered.

“But you can’t go until I can go with you,” Tink complained. “I have a life debt!”

“No you don’t,” Sam countered. “You fulfilled that debt when you brought me back to life with a wish. Besides, I never saved your life in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Tink asked suspiciously.

“I told that merchant about you,” Sam said with a shrug. “I didn’t want you to keep stealing and I liked you. So I set you up so I could have a traveling companion.”

“I knew it!” Tink cried, smacking a fist into her palm. “There was no way that fat bastard could have caught me!”

“Then why did you make the Life Debt?” Bob asked, confused.

“Well,” Tink answered sheepishly, “I figured I could turn Sam to stealing so I wouldn’t have to carry the big stuff. I didn’t know it would turn out the opposite of that. Besides, I thought tagging along with a warrior woman would be more exciting than hiding in the shadows as a thief.”

“Ah-ha,” Bob responded with a smirk.

“What about you, String Bean?” Lilly asked him. “What are you gonna do?”

Bob cast a quick glance at Samantha before answering.

“I should probably return to the tavern as well, to uh… make sure the spell isn’t wearing off on the undead I left there. The stench of rotting flesh could turn away business.”

“Riiiight,” Tink scoffed. “Check on the bouncers, sure. Well, you two wait for me there; I’ll be along as soon as I get the king settled in with a new Chancellor.”

“Then take this,” Bob proffered a small pendant swinging on a delicate chain. “I found it amongst Norman’s items. It will instantly transport a magician to where he wants to go. I have modified the spell so that anyone can use it, and it will take you directly to the Chain-mail Bikini.”

A castle servant entered the room and whispered into the King’s ear.

“Well, it appears that there are a few citizens seeking an audience with me,” he told the group. If you will all excuse me?”

“I’m coming along, Ronnie,” Lilly followed in his path to the Throne Room.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Charles said with a yawn, “But I’m still tired. I’m going to go take a nap.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, Dad,” Samantha said before turning to Bob. “You should give your zombies more time before asking them to do anything. Coming back from the dead is very tiring.”

“Trust me, it is just as tiring to raise them,” Bob told her. “I agree that a nap is in order.”

The two of them walked in silence along the castles corridors until they stood at the door to Sam and Tink’s room.

“Umm,” Bob began hopefully.

“Don’t say anything, Bob.” Sam interrupted, placing a finger gently on his lips. “What Norman said about my feelings for you was true, I admit. But I am not ready to rush into anything. I care for you a great deal, I may even love you, but I don’t know for sure.”

“I understand,” Bob told her, sagging slightly.

“No, Bob, you don’t.” Sam told him. “But you will. We have a long journey together back to the tavern, and we still have a lot to learn about each other. We’ll just have to see what happens.”

“Agreed,” Bob told her with a smile. “Sleep well, Samantha.”

Sam stood on her tiptoes and gave Bob a quick kiss.

“You, too, handsome mage,” she answered before disappearing behind the door. She leaned backwards against it with a smile, and let out a happy sigh.

*          *          *

Two days later, the celebrations were over. Samantha’s family gathered at the closed gate, along with Tink and the King to wish Sam and Bob well on their journey. A crowd of Rom citizens and former mercenaries were gathered in the courtyard behind them. King Ronald stepped forward.

“My kingdom owes you both a great debt,” he told them. “Without your assistance, my people would be under the merciless thumb of my son. You will always be welcome here, and you may evermore consider yourselves honored citizens of Rom.”

The King bowed formally to the pair before stepping back.

Charles stepped forward to address his daughter.

“I am a very proud father, Samantha,” he told her. “The bards and minstrels will sing the songs of the female warrior who died in battle and rose again to save a kingdom, and I will raise my voice in song along with them. You did it, Sam, you made your dream come true. I am so very proud of you.”

Charles reached out and pulled Sam into an embrace, and a tear trickled down her cheek. Charles released her and turned to Bob, clasping his hand warmly.

“You are a good man, Bobrogonzo the Magician,” he said. “My daughter is an excellent judge of character.”

Charles suddenly pulled Bob close by their handshake and whispered into his ear.

“Just don’t ever let her get the upper hand, or you’ll never hear the end of it. Trust me.”

“I heard that, Daddy,” Sam chided as Charles release his grip with a grin.

Lilly shouldered her son out of the way and wrapped an arm around each of them.

“You two be careful, now,” she ordered. “I’ll come see you at that bar when I get bored here.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the still smiling King.

“Course, that might take a while,” she confided. “You just might be a princess, someday, Sam. Now, Bob, you take good care of my granddaughter and behave yourself or I’ll be comin after ya!”

“I promise you, Lillith,” Bob said with a chuckle, “that I shall live up to the standards that you yourself have shown me.”

Lilly threw back her head in a guffaw.

“Don’t you make me kill you after all we’ve been through, String Bean!”

The crowd parted, and Wanda walked slowly to her daughter.

“I had the royal seamstress make this for you, Samantha,” she said without preamble as she handed her a small package. “Please don’t open it here, wait until you have a more private place. The seamstress took a lot longer than I thought she should have, and she complained incessantly about the lack of accurate measurements, but I think you will look lovely in it.”

Sam took the package and gave it a little shake.

“Thank you, Mom,” she said and gave her mother a hug. Wanda turned to Bob.

“I have not had a chance to get to know you,” she said, “but I have heard how you went to my daughter’s aid. You seem to be a man of good character, and I thank you. Please take good care of her.”

Without another word, she turned and disappeared back into the castle.

“Holy shit,” Lilly said to her son, who was staring after his wife with his jaw hanging open.

“What?” the King asked, beating everyone else that was dying to ask the question.

“That is the absolute first and only time I have ever heard that woman not say something critical of anybody,” Lilly answered.

“I don’t even remember the last time I heard her actually praise anyone,” Charles added.

Bob blushed, and could not find anything to say. Tink came to his rescue.

“I’m not going to say any goodbyes, because I am going to see you in a couple of weeks,” she said. “Just don’t let anything happen to you while we’re apart. I still have that Life Debt.”

“I told you already that you don’t,” Sam protested.

“And I told you that I do,” Tink countered. “You started me on a better life, and every day I continue in that life, I owe you again. The Life Debt stands.”

“The Life Debt stands,” Sam agreed and lifted her friend into a bear hug. “Find that Chancellor and hurry home.”

“Bye Sam,” Rupert waved, tears in his eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, big brother,” Sam told him.

“As long as it’s soon, its ok,” he said.

Sam looked at each of them. She had gotten closer to every single one of the members of her family and friends on this adventure than she had ever thought possible. She had even made some new friends. She would miss them all. She raised her voice so the gathered crowd could hear.

“I’ll return as soon as I can to visit,” she told them. “Rom is like a home to me now, and its people like family. Take care of yourselves, and each other.”

“I certainly cannot improve on that,” Bob said. “Farewell, my friends!”

The two turned and faced the closed gate.

“Umm, can someone get the door?” Sam asked.

“It was still a fine exit,” Bob whispered to her.

“Shush,” Sam commanded.

“Guards!” The King shouted, startling them both. “Open the castle gate for two of our kingdoms finest heroes!”

Men in full dress armor raced in and lifted the heavy wooden cross bar. As they trotted it away, more men took their place and began to push the doors open. The road leading away from the castle was lined with troops.

“Attention!” Charles shouted.

The men lining the road snapped into formation, two perfectly straight lines.

“Present arms!” Charles ordered.

The men raised swords, spears and an occasional pitchfork into the air, forming an arch.

Bob and Sam looked at each other in shock. They then turned to look at the King, who shrugged and smiled. They smiled back and began to walk down the path, beneath the arrayed weaponry. They nodded at the occasional familiar face, and Sam barely suppressed a snicker as they passed a group in plaid pants. They smiled and winked at her as she passed.

After the troops, the road was lined with cheering citizens of Rom. The whooped and hollered as the two heroes walked past to their waiting horses. Sam smiled as she saw a group of girls waving sticks as if they were swords, older boys staying well out of reach.

Bob and Sam took the reins of their horses from the proud boys who had been charged with their keep, and climbed into the saddles. With a final wave, they turned and galloped down the road.

The cheering did not stop until they were so far away they couldn’t hear it any more.

Bob refused to understand what Tink was saying.

“What do you mean, ‘she’s gone’?” he asked.

“Bob…” Tink answered with tears flowing down her face, “Sam is dead.”

“That… That can’t be.” Bob shook his head in denial.

Tink stood and walked to the mage, who was staring at Sam’s body while continually shaking his head. Lilly dropped her sword to the ground and ran to her granddaughter.

“Bob,” Tink began quietly as she took both his hands, “I have a life debt to Sam. For an elf, that is more than just words. Once that life debt had been created, my life was bound to hers until one of us died. I know she is gone, Bob, I can’t feel the life debt anymore.”

“No,” Bob continued to shake his head. “It just cannot be true.”

Tink released his hand and joined Lilly at Samantha’s body. Rupert slowly slid from his steed and stared, sobbing.

There was silence in the meadow. The mercenaries had fled, the mutant creatures wandered aimlessly.

The silence was finally broken by the sound of the castle gates opening. Charles emerged at a run, racing towards the group.

“I saw everything,” he said when he arrived. “What’s going on?”

Lilly wrapped her son in a tight hold.

“Charles, Samantha is dead.”

Charles roughly removed himself from his mothers embrace and rushed to his daughter.

“No, no, no…” he cried. “Why did I encourage her? Why?”

Charles threw back his head and screamed wordlessly at the heavens.

Hearing Charles’ despair shook Bob out of his shocked stupor. He collapsed to his knees and began sobbing.

Tink had been pacing around the group, muttering to herself.

“I want nothing more,” she whispered to herself before returning to Samantha’s body.

“Please,” Tink told the grieving group, “I have to do something. Please give me some room.”

Lilly gently pulled Charles away from Samantha, and Tink knelt at her side. She looked down at her friend’s face, and then clasped her hands in front of her and placed her forehead on Sam’s chest. Her voice could just barely be heard, words unintelligible.

Puffy white clouds flowed from above the forest to cover the meadow, blocking the sun from sight but not causing darkness. One solitary gap in the clouds appeared, and the rays of the sun fell directly upon Tink and Samantha. From the darkness of the forest, a single point of light appeared, a green flickering firefly of light, dancing across the grass. It was followed by another, and then another, until a curtain of dancing green lights made it’s way towards Tink.

One passed in front of Rupert, who cupped his hands beneath it. He leaned his face close and his sudden smile was highlighted by the bright green orb. He dropped his hands, and it joined the others as they swirled over Tink’s head.  No more lights emerged from the forest; they all hovered over Sam and Tink in a gently swirling cloud.

Tink raised her head and the group could hear her voice clearly now, but could not understand her.

“That’s elvish,” Lilly whispered to Charles.

Tink stopped speaking, the light from the hovering lights reflecting from her tear stained face. She stared at the cloud, which continued to slowly spin in the air over her.

“Please,” she said, “she’s my best friend.”

There was no sound, but Tink’s pointed ears flicked slightly.

“I know,” she said to the cloud, “but I have a life debt.”

“I don’t care,” she said after another minute’s silence. “It’s not absolved in my heart. I would give my life for her; I want this more than anything else. Ever.”

There was another minute of silence, and then the cloud began to descend upon the pair.

“Thank you,” Tink said as she stood and backed away from Samantha. “Thank you.”

The lights danced over Samantha’s body, and groups of them began to congregate upon her wounds. Samantha’s body lifted silently into the air, hanging limply from invisible strings as the cloud encapsulated her. More and more groups broke from the floating cloud and clumped on Samantha, wounds closing where they touched. Soon, Sam hung motionless as the formless cloud once again swirled around her.

Nobody spoke. Nobody dared breathe. Everyone wanted to ask Tink what was going on, but she was oblivious, staring at the cloud.

One by one, the individual lights streaked at Samantha’s head, more and more each second entered her skull until the cloud was gone and Samantha wore a halo of green light. The halo began to spread across her body until every inch of her glowed. She began to descend to the ground, finally laid gently upon unsoiled grass. Particles of light began to emerge from her form, dancing their way back to the forest. As the last one disappeared, the clouds began to break, the beam of sunlight bathing Samantha spreading to fill the meadow as the skies became clear.

Tink ran to Samantha and once again knelt at her side. She gently tapped Sam’s cheeks.

“Wake up, Sam,” she whispered. “It’s time to wake up.”

Samantha’s eyelids flickered, and she opened her eyes to see Tink crying over her.

“What just happened?” Sam asked groggily.

Tink wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffed once before answering.

“You got killed, but you’re doing much better now.”

“I got killed?” Sam asked.

Tink nodded and wiped away more tears.

“Killed, as in dead?”

Tink nodded again.

Sam pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked first at Tink, then at the rest of the awed group.

“Well…” Sam said to her friend, “that sucked. I don’t think I’m gonna try that again.”

“You better not,” Tink told her, “because I can’t do what I just did ever again.”

She pulled Sam to a sitting position, and Rupert was there to pull her upright. He wrapped her in a bear hug and swayed back and forth as Sam’s legs dangled and swung above the ground.

“Don’t die again,” he told her.

Charles and Lilly ran forward to join in the embrace. Tink walked over to stand by Bob. They watched the family in silence. Samantha was finally released by her family and she shakily walked over to face her two friends. Bob stared at her for several moments, and then looked down at Tink.

“What was that?” he asked her. “I have never seen magic like that before, nor have I ever heard of anything like it. I couldn’t even sense any magic at all.”

Tink smiled up at him.

“Elvish wish,” she said. “Every elf gets to make one and only one wish in their life. If the spirits approve of it, it gets granted. I wished for Sam to come back to us.”

“You used the only wish you will ever get in your entire life for me?” Sam asked.

“I wanted nothing more,” Tink shrugged.

Sam knelt and wrapped her arms around her friend.

“You are the best friend a person could ever have,” Sam told her. “Thank you.”

Sam stood and faced Bob.

“Did you miss me?” she asked him.

“Are you kidding!?” Tink shouted, back to her old self. “You shoulda seen this guy! He was bawling like a baby! And holy shit, Sam! Did you see that stuff he was doing on the way over here? Look at that mountain! It’s still smoking! Little advice… me to you… don’t ever, ever piss him off.”

Tink bounded away to assist Lilly and Charles in binding the Chancellor. Rupert had once again climbed on board his rabbit and was bounding happily around the meadow.

“Bawling like a baby, huh?” Sam asked.

“Our little friend does have a unique talent for exaggeration,” Bob smiled, “But she is not far from the truth in this particular instance. I was, in fact, quite emotionally distraught. I have grown rather attached to you, Samantha.”

“I can honestly say the same about you, Bobrogonzo.”

Samantha stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Bob’s neck and gave him a long kiss.

Charles, Tink and Lilly approached the pair, the Chancellor in tow, and waited in silence as the kiss drew on and on. Finally, Lilly cleared her throat noisily.

“I think the King might want to know that we won,” she told them.

Sam and Bob broke away from each other with a start. Sam looked across the mutant filled meadow towards the castle.

“Do you think you could do something about those overgrown critters?” she asked. “I don’t think I have it in me to fight our way back to the castle.

“With Norman gone, his spell will be easily broken.”

Bob faced the castle, and spread his arms wide. He brought his hands together in a thunderclap and a wave of energy shimmered in the air as it radiated all around him. When it crossed a mutant animal, the creature suddenly shrunk to its normal size and scurried away. Squirrels to the trees, badgers to their dens, and birds that were once too big to fly flapped off into the sky.

As the group began the long walk back to the castle, a voice emerged from the trees.

“Hey!”

They all turned to see a group of mercenaries emerge from the cover of the forest. Sam and Lilly drew their swords, Tink clenched her tiny fists around the first weapon she could find, a branding iron, and Charles shouted to the castle for the archers to make ready to fire.”

“Whoa whoa whoa!!!” The leader of the group yelled while making halting motions with his hands. “We don’t wanna fight no more!”

“Then what do you want?” Sam demanded.

“Can we come over there and talk?”

The group lowered their weapons and Sam nodded. The leader and a few of his followers approached them, empty hands showing clearly that they were unarmed.

“Um, look,” the leader began when they were close enough to speak, “the Prince over there…”

“The dead one,” interrupted one of his companions.

“There’s only one Prince here, you idiot!” the leader hissed at him before turning back to Sam. “Anyway, the Prince made us a lot of promises, and we only agreed to his offer because it was what most of us wanted anyway. He offered us land and a place to settle down. Most of us are old, and we’re tired of fighting. We’re tired of starving while we wait for someone to get pissed off enough at someone else to hire us. Mostly, we are tired of looking over our shoulders all the damn time. We just wanted to tell you this so that you would know we won’t be coming back, and that we hope you won’t be coming after us. No hard feelings?”

Sam looked at Bob, who was grinning back at her.

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” she asked.

Bob nodded and spoke to the leader.

“I have an idea. I will have to clear it with the King, of course, but I offer you a proposal. You can discuss it with your men while I discuss it with the King. Why don’t you settle here? The kingdom has need of men who have military experience, if nothing more than to train new recruits. The kingdom needs to be rebuilt; it has fallen into neglect and disrepair for years. If you and your men are willing to work for this kingdom, I believe the king will allow you to stay.”

“That sounds good to me,” the leader told him. His companions nodded in agreement. “You go talk to the King, and we’ll see you here tomorrow morning. I give you my word that we are on the level, and I thank you.”

The two groups turned their backs on each other and went their separate ways.

As they walked, Sam slipped a hand into Bob’s. Behind them, Tink tugged at Lilly’s scabbard and pretended to stick a finger down her throat and made gagging noises. Lilly stifled a snicker, and then pointed off to the side.

“What is that boy doing just sitting there in the middle of the meadow?” she asked.

The group ran over to Rupert, who was crying again.

“Now what’s the matter, boy?” Lilly demanded.

“My bunny’s gone,” Rupert sniffled.

“Where’d it go?” Sam asked, scanning the meadow.

“Dunno,” Rupert told her. “I was riding it, then it was just gone.”

Sam’s eyes suddenly widened in realization.

“Rupert! Get up!” she yelled.

Rupert slowly pulled himself to his feet, and there lay a gasping rabbit where he had been sitting. Sam picked it up and offered it to Rupert.

“Here you go,”

Rupert glanced at it, and then turned away.

“That’s not my bunny,” he told her. “My bunny is big.”

Sam looked at Bob pleadingly.

“Put it on the ground,” he sighed as he rummaged in his magical pouch.

He extracted a small vial and sprinkled a glittering powder over the gasping rabbit while muttering an incantation. It grew rapidly to its former stature, but gone were the fangs and the angry red eyes. It looked just like any other rabbit, just much, much larger.

“Bunny!” Rupert cried as he raced forward to wrap his arms around its neck. The bunny accepted his embrace, and even nuzzled Rupert so strongly that he fell to the ground, laughing.

“Minor taming spell,” Bob answered Samantha’s questioning look. “I made it fond of Rupert so it wouldn’t run away.”

Sam smiled and took Bob’s hand and started for the castle.

“Come on Rupert,” Lilly ordered. “Bring Bunny and let’s go.”

The Prince had finally succeeded in throwing Tink to the side. She slid a yard along the ground before her head hit a boulder with a sickening thud. Tink did not move. The Prince began to get to his feet, but Samantha was already running at him, her hands still tied behind her back. As Don turned to face her, Sam’s flying form knocked him back to the ground, his head firmly locked between Sam’s legs.

The two struggled on the ground, Samantha squeezing her legs tightly as the Prince attempted to pull them apart. In spite of the fact that his face was turning red, he looked across Sam’s body to look her in the eye.

“Not exactly…” he gasped, “how I had pictured this…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam demanded as she grunted with the effort of placing more pressure on his skull.

“I knew… that I would be in this position…” he answered, still struggling, “but I thought it would be a more intimate embrace.”

“This isn’t an embrace, you idiot,” Sam glared down at him, “I’m trying to pop your nasty little head off.”

Sam twisted her body to face the ground, using the leverage to apply more pressure. The Prince closed his eyes in pain, but quickly opened them again to glance past Samantha.

“The view from here… is quite… excellent,” he continued to taunt between gasps, “The firm thighs wrapped around my head… the heaving breasts… the gasps and moans. You will make me… an excellent concubine.”

Sam twisted her body further; almost completely face down on the ground.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” she responded. “You’re about to die.”

“I… think not.” Donald said as the Chancellor stabbed a long dagger into Samantha’s exposed back.

Sam screamed in pain as the blade was twisted, but she managed to keep her hold upon the Prince. The Chancellor withdrew the knife and prepared to repeat the performance.

“Let me go…” the Prince told her, “or his next strike will be fatal. I will allow you to live, so you can continue to provide me this kind of pleasure.”

“If you enjoy this so damn much,” Sam panted, “then you can die happy!”

With those words, Sam twisted her body and there was a loud crack as the Prince’s neck was broken. Sam released her hold on him and lay face down on the ground, blood running from her wound to soak into the earth around her.

The Prince stared at her with unseeing eyes, head twisted at a horrific angle.

“No!” screamed the Chancellor, his voice cracking in rage. He was upon Samantha a moment later, dagger in both hands raised above his head. He plunged it into Sam’s back, before pulling it free and stabbing it into her yet again.

Norman took a step back, staring at the meek Chancellor in horror. His concentration broken, the mutated creatures in the meadow paused in confusion, their direction lost. The Chancellor was about to strike again when he was struck by a ball of energy. He fell at Sam’s side, unconscious. Norman looked towards the castle and saw Bob, his face twisted in rage, his body bathed in a halo of fire.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

Every word Bob spoke was amplified across the field.

“General, pull your troops into the castle,” he told Charles.

“But…” Charles began to protest.

Bob faced him, literal fire in his eyes.

“Pull them back now,” he snarled, “or I cannot guarantee their safety.”

Without another word, Bob calmly stepped from the parapet into thin air and began to walk towards Norman and Samantha unsupported.

Charles stared at him before addressing the aide next to him.

“Sound a full retreat,” he ordered, “Close the gates behind them!”

A great horn sounded, and the farmers turned in confusion towards the castle. They saw Bob, slowly descending as he walked. There was no wind, but Bob’s robes were whipping around him as if he were in a maelstrom. The horn sounded again, and the farmers ran to the gates, pursued by mercenaries and mutants. The gates closed after the last man, and were immediately set upon by the enemy.

“Don’t worry about the castle!” Norman screamed, pointing at Bob. “Get him!”

Bob did not break stride, he was walking a mere foot above the ground. His form was bathed in a reddish hue, his face a sculpture of rage. The mercenaries turned from the castle, and bow strings twanged as arrows were launched at Bob’s back. Several feet from the raging magician, the arrows seemed to vanish inside an invisible window. As the feathers of the arrow disappeared, the sharp tip emerged. The arrows flew unerringly back to their source, and archers fell.

With a battle cry, swords were drawn and the men raced at Bob, who was still walking as if nothing had happened. The first man reached him and his sword flashed in an arc that would cleave the magicians head. There was a faint pop, and the man was gone. His sword fell into a pile of dust where the mercenary had been. The same thing happened to the second man foolish enough to attack. He was the final man to make the attempt, the rest paced behind him, swords at the ready, awaiting an opportunity.

Bob continued to walk, eyes fixed on Norman.

Norman backed up a few steps, stumbling over Samantha’s body. He heard her gasp in pain, and gained some courage in the knowledge that he still had a hostage.

“You can’t beat me, Bob!” he yelled at the advancing figure. “My dark magic is more powerful than anything you can use! I cast spells to damage, to kill! Your white spells can’t do that!”

Norman waved his hands, chanting. He thrust his hands at Bob and a red ball of magical energy crackled as it sped across the meadow, grass beneath it burst into flames in its wake.

Bob did not step aside, his stride did not falter. The red ball hit him directly in the chest and exploded. A shock wave knocked the mercenaries from their feet, and the mutated forest creatures cowered in fear.

Bob emerged from the flames, robes smoking as he continued his advance.

Norman turned white. He began to wave his hands frantically and countless energy balls sped towards Bob. They were erratic, many missing their mark and blowing chunks of earth skyward. Those that found their target were carelessly batted away by Bob’s glowing hands. Seeing the futility of his latest attack, Norman ceased his frantic waving. He stood in place, hands curled in front him and brow furrowed in concentration. A sparking ball of energy formed in the air in front of him, and it began to grow. Sparks grew into chains of energy racing around the surface of the sphere, accompanied by a reptilian hissing. Norman raised his arms over his head, almost overbalancing backwards as he prepared to hurl the missile. With a scream, he threw the orb at Bob.

Bob continued his advance; eyes narrow as he tracked the oncoming spell. At the last moment, he stopped his advance and spun in place, looking as if he were about to hit the ball with a large stick. There was a loud crack as energies collided, and Norman’s missile was speeding away from Bob on a climbing trajectory. It collided with a mountain top miles away, and the countryside was bathed in a blinding light. Moments later, a clap of thunder filled the meadow, quickly followed by a tremendous blast of wind that bowled most of the mercenaries to the ground. The mercenaries all seemed to have the same idea at once, and fled into the trees. The mutated creatures, devoid of enemies and directed, wandered aimlessly in the clearing.

And still, Bob continued his silent advance. Norman was bent over at the waist; hand on his knees panting from the exertion of his last spell. He looked up to see that Bob was almost upon him, and in desperation, grabbed a dagger from his belt knelt next to Samantha. He pulled her head up by the hair and placed the blade at her throat.

“Stop!” He screamed, “Don’t come any closer!”

Lilly and Rupert had reached Tink, and roused her. Tink staggered to her feet and took in the scene. She grabbed an abandoned scythe, and the trio advanced on the two magicians. The Chancellor began to stir.

“Rupert!” Lilly pointed at the Chancellor.

Rupert kicked the rabbit into motion and it made a great leap. The Chancellor rolled onto his back to see the huge teeth of the snarling beast inches from his face. Tink took up a position behind Norman, and Lilly stood by Bob’s side, sword at the ready.

“Get up, Norman,” Bob ordered.

“No!” Norman screamed. “One move and I finish her off! One flick of the finger and she dies!”

“The Prince is dead,” Bob explained in a flat voice. “The Chancellor is about to find out if rabbits eat meat, and you are surrounded. You have no chance to escape. Surrender.”

“No…” Norman stammered. “N-no… I’ll… I’ll take her with me… I take her and leave… and you don’t follow me! I’ll let her go when I am away from you… I know you won’t do anything that would cause her to come to harm.”

“Oh, she isn’t the one who will be harmed,” Lilly snarled, “but you will.”

“Just let me go,” Norman wailed. “Just let me go, and I will leave her here. Please, just let me go! I promise I won’t come back, I promise!”

“You have two options, Norman,” Bob said. “Only two. You let her go and spend the rest of your life in the dungeon; or you continue this madness and make good on your threat to kill Samantha, and then you die.”

Norman quickly changed positions. He removed the dagger from Sam’s throat and replaced it with his arm. He stood and dragged Sam to her feet, the dagger poised at her back.

“No… NO!” Norman seemed to suddenly find some courage. “I am taking her with me, and you aren’t going to stop me.”

“Wrong!” Tink yelled from behind him.

Norman whipped his head around to see Tink for the first time. He looked back to Bob.

“You haven’t won,” he said. “No matter what happens to me now, you still lose.”

He thrust the knife into Sam’s back and she screamed. Norman shoved her roughly to the ground and began to run for the forest. Tink rushed to Sam as Bob looked on in shock. Just as Norman reached the edge of the forest, he halted mid stride. His frozen form slowly turned mid-air and floated to a position in front of Bob. Norman stared at him in horror.

Bob’s face was tortured, twisted in hatred. The blue flames that had surrounded him were gone, replaced with diseased red curls of smoking energy. Bob’s face was bathed in red light, and he was unrecognizable. Lilly looked at him in shock.

“You take her life just to spite me?” Bob roared, his voice growling like a wounded animal. “You know that you have no chance to escape and yet you still take her life? If life means so little to you… I see no reason for you to keep yours.”

Norman’s limbs, still frozen mid stride began to splay. Soon, his arms were stretched wide, his legs pulled apart until he was a floating cross, screaming in pain.

Tink pulled the dagger from Samantha’s back and used it to slice through the ropes still binding her wrists. Sam lay still for a moment, gasping in pain.

“Help me up,” she ordered. Tink pulled Samantha by the arms until she was facing Bob, still on her knees and head bowed.

Norman continued to scream. His fingers began to spread apart to impossible angles, his clothing beginning to come apart at the seams. Joints popped, tendons stretched as Bob’s spell began to rip him apart.

“How?” Norman gasped between screams, “Y-you are a white mage…”

“I choose white magic because I value my soul,” Bob said coldly from between tight lips. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use dark magics.”

He twisted his hands as if he was wringing the water from a soaked towel, and Norman screamed again as his torso twisted.

“Bob…” Sam gasped.

Norman’s torture suddenly stopped, but he remained floating several feet above the ground. The tortured light left Bob’s face as he turned to face Samantha.

“Don’t do this,” Sam continued. “Please don’t betray your code because of me… Don’t use your magic to kill.”

Tink stepped back in surprise, and once again took up her scythe.

Bob looked back to Norman, and the red light once again bathed his face.

“This vermin has caused countless people heartache, innumerable sufferings. He shall never do so again.”

Norman screamed, louder than before as his limbs were once again stretched by Bob’s spell. There was a loud ‘POP’ and one of his arms suddenly stretched a few inches farther is it was dislocated from his shoulder.

“Bob…” Sam repeated. “Please… Don’t break your code. I know that you will regret it the rest of your life, and I could never respect a man who broke his code. You made an oath.”

“What code?” Tink demanded from behind Norman. “Rip this guy apart so we can all go home. I’m hungry.”

“Bob has vowed to never kill with his magic,” Sam explained as she fell to one side and supported herself on one arm. “I don’t want him to break that code because of me.”

“So…” Tink asked, “Bob has a code that won’t let him kill? That’s the problem?”

“Yes,” Sam said as her arm gave way and she fell to her side.

Tink looked at Sam, who gave her a pointed look.

“I don’t,” Tink said as she launched herself at Norman, scythe held high over her head.

With a scream, she leaped into the air and buried the blade of her scythe into his back. Norman looked down in surprise at the bloody point protruding from his chest. Tink hung from the handle, several feet above the ground, and began to jerk her body downward. The blade cut a long hole in the magician with each bounce. Bob stared in shock as Tink dropped to the ground and dusted off her hands on her trousers.

“Problem solved,” she said as Normans head fell to his chest, life gone from his eyes. “Can we please go now?”

Bob snapped out of his shocked surprise, the red light gone from his face. Norman’s body fell limply to the ground in a heap.

“Thank you, Tink,” Sam said, her eyes closing.

Tink rushed to her side and rolled her onto her back.

“Sam?” she said quietly. “Sam? SAM!”

Tink looked at Bob in horror.

“She’s gone!”

Charles paced back and forth across the parapet, glaring across the meadow at the prince’s troops at one end, and then looking down inside the castle at his own arrayed behind the gate at the other.

“What the hell are they waiting for?” he growled. “Why are they just sitting there?”

“It’s been almost an hour,” Lilly said. “We’re gonna have to do something to give Sam the distraction she needs.”

“Can you do anything yet, Bob?” Charles asked.

Bob concentrated for a moment before answering. “No, Norman is still blocking me.”

Charles made several more circuits along the parapet before speaking again.

“All right. We have to get Sam that distraction. Prepare the troops to move out, and get some people on that gate to open and close it as quickly as possible.”

A voice echoed across the meadow.

“People of Rom!” the Prince’s voice rang. “I am King Donald of Rom, your new lord and master! Lower your weapons!”

The troops in the courtyard stirred at this announcement, and tried to peer through the solid outer wall. King Ronald gestured to Bob, who made the motions to amplify his voice.

“You are nothing but an exile!” King Ronald shouted back at his son. “You have no land, no people, and no respect! You are a king of nothing!”

“I am the rightful heir to this land!” Don retorted. “You people will lower your weapons, open the gate and allow me passage into my castle, or you will suffer the consequences!”

“What consequences?” Ron asked. “You do not have my castle, and we are ready to fight you to the last man. My people are loyal to the Kingdom, and all you have are swords for hire. They will abandon you as soon as you stop paying them, and you cannot pay them unless you take this castle. Their loyalty is fleeting, as you will soon find out, even if you succeed in taking this castle.”

“Oh, father. My troops are very loyal to me.” The smirk could be heard in the Prince’s tone. “I have already told them of my plans of conquest, and they are very much aware that being a part of my army is more profitable than working the normal small jobs. They will get to keep any plunder from the kingdoms they conquer, as well as certain… intangible benefits.”

“Intangible benefits?” the King was genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I told them they could do as they please with the women of conquered kingdoms, starting with this one.”

A group of men emerged from the forest shoving a captive Samantha. She was forced to the ground in front of the Prince. Don unsheathed his sword and dismounted his horse. He stood behind Sam with his blade held high over her head.

“Open the gates now or she dies.”

The group on the parapet stood in shocked silence for several moments before Charles spoke.

“She’s a warrior. She isn’t afraid of death,” he told the group. “Honestly, I’m more afraid of what she will do to us if we give in.”

“One person’s life is not worth the suffering you would cause to this kingdom,” Bob’s voice now boomed across the landscape. “She knows this, and she is willing to die for these people.”

“Oh, she won’t die, Bobrogonzo,” Norman’s voice taunted, “not quickly. I know you, Bobrogonzo, I know how you care for people. I suspect that you care for this woman very deeply, and my spells have already told me that she cares for you. You once took my love away from me, and I have been waiting years to return that favor. I shall do that today, I will take your love from you, and I will do the same to any man who opposes us.”

“Don’t ever play cards, Bob,” Lilly said sadly. “You can’t bluff for shit. Where’s Tink?”

“There,” Charles nodded to the right flank of the Prince’s troops.

Lilly squinted in the indicated direction and saw a glimpse of the elf’s face before it disappeared into the brush.

Rupert burst onto the parapet.

“Pa!” he shouted. “They got Sam! I gotta help her!”

“We all do, son.” Charles answered. “We’re going to attack.”

“I’m gonna go get her,” Rupert stated.

Charles looked at his son for several moments.

“All right, son. But you need these before we go out there.”

Charles took one of the huge shields from a nearby archer and strapped it to Rupert’s back.

“He won’t be able to get that off to use it,” Lilly protested.

“He doesn’t know how to use it,” Charles told her as he pulled the final strap tight. “It’s just going to protect his back; nothing will get to him from the front.”

“I’m going with him,” Lilly announced as she took her own shield in hand.

Donald’s voice once again boomed across the clearing.

“I have a proposal, Father. You give me half the land, and its occupants, and I will pull back my troops. Oh, and my troops want the old woman warrior and the pixie. Agree to this, and we three will come to you to discuss the division.”

“Oh, hell,” Lilly said. “Come on, Rupert, we have to go now!”

Charles stared at his mothers back as she grabbed Rupert by the arm and started a dash to the stairs. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“He called Tink a pixie,” Lilly called back. “She’s gonna be pissed!”

Charles turned to Bob, who was still staring across the meadow to where Sam was held.

“I don’t understand,” he asked. “Why is that such a problem?”

Bob’s form seemed blurred as she shrugged his shoulders.

“Tink will probably attack the Prince by herself,” he said distractedly. “Lilly is going to protect her.”

“I can’t do this,” Ronald said with a sigh. “I just can’t let you people die like this, not when I can do something about it.”

He stepped forward and yelled to his son without the benefit of magical amplification.

“I agree to your terms with the exception any people. You can have the land, but the people stay with me. Come to the castle and we will draw up the borders of our new kingdoms.”

The chancellor actually rubbed his palms together greedily.

“That is very generous, Father,” the prince responded, “but that wasn’t the deal I offered. Since you have rejected my generous offer, I have no choice but to take it all.”

Norman raised his hand and barked guttural words. The sky over the forest began to fill with dark shapes, and the brush at the edge of the forest began to boil with motion.

“What the hell are those?” cried one of the nearby archers, pointing at the sky.

The troops in the courtyard were becoming more and more unsettled, as they could hear everything that was going on, but could see nothing.

“Dragons?” asked one of the farmers in a horrified voice. “Do they have dragons?”

“No…” Charles said as he looked upon the clouds of shapes descending upon the meadow. “They look like huge birds.”

“Another of Norman’s perversions,” Bob answered. “His dark magic has twisted the creatures of the forest into abominations of nature, their most base natures their only actions.”

The castle was now surrounded by the creatures. All manner of forest dweller, now misshapen and snarling stood in the meadow. Stags with impossibly huge horns pawed the ground; huge bears with six-inch fangs dripped saliva onto the ground. Rats, squirrels, wolves, and even insects and spiders constantly lunged towards the castle, held back by an invisible hand.

The prince’s troops had withdrawn to the edge of the forest, and now began to sit or lean against trees; a bloodthirsty audience waiting for the show to begin.

“So now you see, Father.” Donald said across the distance. “I have the upper hand, I control the troops, and I control the beasts. It is only by my favor that I do not kill you all and take what is already mine. I have the warrior wench; hand over the pixie and the old woman and surrender. The only other choice is death.”

“Don’t do it, Ron!” Sam cried out, finally breaking her silence. “I’m not afraid of this little prick that can’t get a woman without ropes.”

“Shut up, bitch!” Donald yelled as he gave Sam a vicious backhanded slap across the face. “I am King! I will no longer endure the insults of you or those of your pixie pet!”

A ball of fury erupted from the forest behind the Chancellor.

“That’s IT!” Tink yelled as she raced at the prince.

Samantha kicked her self to her feet and turned to face her friend. She saw the Prince smile as he drew his sword. Arms still bound, she threw herself at him, knocking him from his feet. His sword went flying and Tink was upon him instantly. Her tiny fists beat a staccato on his face, punctuating every word of her sentence.

“I… am… not… a… PIXIE!!!”

The prince spat a single word: “Attack!”

Norman gestured and the creatures were no longer restrained. They began to rush the castle.

“Open the gates!” Charles ordered. “Everyone attack!”

The gates flung wide and the farmers poured into the meadow, screaming. They stopped when they saw their foe and began to retreat in fear back inside.

“Hey!” a single farmer yelled, “That’s my cow! Those bastards took my milk cow!”
“Run you fool,” his neighbor shouted, “It’s gonna be milking you in a minute!”

“Nobody messes with my Bessie!” the first man shouted as he charged into the fray, plunging his pitchfork into a huge rat.

Several other farmers had taken a closer look at the beasts.

“That’s my plow horse!”

“My daughter’s cat!”

“Oh, my sheep,” came a pitiful cry. “My beautiful, beautiful sheep!”

“Rufus’ sheep?” came a call from a huddled group of older men. “The got his sheep? Bastards!”

The retreating farmers turned and entered the battle. There were screams of pain from the vermin of the forest, and the livestock was slowly being calmed and turned by their owners.

From the edge of the forest, Lilly and Rupert emerged, no longer attempting a stealthy approach. They ran towards the group of enemy leaders, where Tink and the Prince were still in combat.

A huge deformed rooster blocked Rupert’s path. Without breaking stride, he leapt and wrapped his arms around its neck. Rupert planted both feet firmly and swung the beast around several times before slamming it down on the ground. It lay there dazed, and gasping for air. In an instant, Lilly was atop the beast and plunged her broadsword deep into its breast. It quivered and lay still. Rupert release his hold on the creature and gave its head a swift kick before brushing feathers from his sleeves.

“Rupert! Behind you!” Lilly warned.

Rupert spun round and found himself face to face with a hideous creature. Its lips were curled back to reveal impossibly huge teeth, opening and closing with every snarling breath. Rupert was reflected in red eyes as long ears folded back along the creature’s body, massive hind legs tense, ready to strike.

Lilly yanked her sword from the rooster she still stood upon, and was about to jump to Rupert’s defense when he gave an excited squeal.

“BUNNY!”

Rupert wrapped his massive arms around the beast’s neck and buried his face in the matted fur. The red eyes widened in surprise and pain as Rupert began to squeeze.

“Rupert!” Lilly yelled, “What the hell are you doing? Get away from that thing so I can kill it!”

“No!” Rupert yelled as he twisted his face from the mutated rabbit. “Don’t kill the bunny! Can I keep him, Gramma, can I?”

Lilly looked at him in shock as the rabbit’s eyes grew larger.

“Only if you treat it nice, and as long as it behaves,” she answered. “The first time it tries to kill you I’m gonna cut its head off.”

“Yay!” Rupert yelled and pulled the rabbit close to him again. It gave a weak “Ack!” and its tongue lolled out from behind the massive teeth.

“Rupert, dear,” Lilly scolded, “you’re squeezing too tight. See if you can ride it and let’s go help Sam!”

Rupert bounded atop the gasping rabbit and Lilly took off at a run, attacking everything she came in contact with. Anything she missed was trampled by Rupert’s unorthodox steed.

Hundreds of black clad men emerged from the forests edge in groups. They carried huge shields, and began advancing towards the castle. As they approached, they formed into tight groups, shields overlapping.

“Arrows aren’t going to do any good,” Charles commented. “They’ve formed up into classic Phalanx formations. Are you sure that we can’t use those stink bombs again?”

“Doubtful,” Bob answered. “I have to assume that any magical attack can only be used once, since Norman will be able to counter it. My fear is that he will allow normal arrows to fall, but any with the concoction attached will be repelled, or worse, sent back to its source.”

The troops in black marched in perfect formation towards the castle, shields overlapping in front and above their heads. They looked like massive armored insects slowly crawling towards the nervously waiting farmers. The only sound was the marching of feet and the occasional sound of one shield impacting another.

Bob peered intently at the advancing troops, hands bathed in blue flame.

“Not yet, Mage,” Charles cautioned as he raised a banner high over his head. He stood that way for several minutes, watching the enemy before yelling to his troops.

“Attack!”

The farmers began screaming as they started to run at their foe, swords, pitchforks and scythes waving overhead. The enemy broke their phalanx formations and spread out to meet the attack.

The farmers halted their charge short of the advancing line, and waved their makeshift weapons while continuing their battle cries.

“Archers, now!” Charles yelled, and arrows rained down upon the now unprotected enemy. Many of Don’s troops failed to raise their shields in time and fell to the ground, dead or wounded. The field captains quickly remedied this oversight by ordering the Don’s troops to charge across the remaining distance to the waiting farmers. Weapons of war clanged against tools of trade, and the battle cries were now punctuated by screams of pain.

“Now, Bob!” Charles ordered, and Bob lifted his hands from his hips as if lifting a great weight. The ground behind the enemy troops sprouted a crop of rusty swords, followed by rotting limbs as the undead once again clawed their way free from the soil. Once free, they shuffled towards the unprotected rear of the advancing troops.

The Prince’s troops now found themselves surrounded. They formed ragged circles, fighting farmers and plunging their swords uselessly into the zombies, whose severed hands would continue to harass them.

“Look!” Tink shouted as she pointed across the meadows.

Don, Norman and the Chancellor had emerged from the trees, sitting high atop armored horses and surrounded by a handful of troops standing at the ready. Norman stood in his saddle and raised a hand to the skies. His mouth was moving, but words could not be heard over the din of battle. There was a pause in the fighting as the men from both armies stopped to gape at the suddenly glowing weapons in the hands of the Prince’s troops. A soldier plunged his glowing sword into the chest of his zombie opponent. The milky eyes widened in surprise as the zombie slowly fell to the ground. The mercenary pulled his sword free, and the body rapidly decomposed into dust.

The mercenaries’ companions took note, and focused their attention on the undead. The zombies crumpled to the ground with astonishing rapidity, their decrepit bodies unable to move quickly enough to counter the blows of the experienced warriors. The farmers renewed their attack, attempting to take advantage of their preoccupied opponents, and for the next several minutes, mercenary, farmer and zombie swung, fell and died.

When the battle fury ended, a mere dozen farmers began a slow retreat towards the castle, leaving behind all of their enemies that had fallen.

The farmers had won the battle, but at a great loss. Silence once again fell across the meadow as they made their way to the gate. Two more men fell to their wounds along the way, and the great gates were opened. Women rushed out to assist their men inside, and the gate was once again closed and barred behind them.

*          *          *

The trio of banished men sat silently, glaring at the castle. They had been doing this for an hour. The Prince stared at the ramparts, searching. Finally, he saw his father, and waited until he could see that he was being watched. He raised his hand above his head and slowly lowered it until his extended fingers were pointed at the castle. In silence, more mercenaries emerged from the forest. From behind trees, rock and from the tall grass figures emerged by the hundreds.

As the King and his friends watched in horror, the far end of the meadow turned into a solid mass of troops, the Prince behind them, his smile visible even from the great distance.

“There has to be over a thousand men out there,” Charles breathed.

“Where did he get so many?” asked the King, his shoulders slumped.

“It doesn’t matter where,” Lilly growled. “The fact is that they are here now, and we ain’t giving up.”

Bob had been staring down at the meadow in silence, not looking at the buildup of troops. Finally, he spoke.

“Norman is blocking me,” he announced. “I am unable to raise the fallen to our defense.”
“We are going to need those troops if we are even going to have a small chance for success, Magician,” Charles told him with a harsh edge in his voice. “I was counting on them to supplement us.”

Bob turned to face him. “I am well aware of that, General. If you recall, I was the one who stated that I would be able to do this. It would appear that Norman has learned a trick or two in the intervening years, and the harsh reality is that as long as Norman is blocking be, I can do nothing.”

“Then Norman has to go,” Sam announced as she stood and shifted her sword on her hip. “Come on, Tink.”

“Where are you going?” Lilly demanded.

“Give us an hour, and then send out the troops to attack.” Sam told her father. “Tink and I are going to try to get around behind them. The attack should keep Normans attention long enough for us to take him down. If we’re lucky, we can get that weasel of a Prince and his Chancellor, too.”

“I’m going with you,” Bob announced.

“No, you’re needed here,” Sam countered. “You have to cast that spell as soon as we take out Norman. Dad, as soon as he can raise the dead, recall your troops and let the zombies do the fighting.”

“How can the two of you accomplish this by yourselves?” the King asked.

“I’m a warrior,” Sam answered him flatly. “Tink is a thief. We can both be very quiet, and very deadly.”

“I don’t like this,” Bob told her.

“You just keep trying to cast your spell,” Sam ordered. “Don’t worry about us.”

Bob opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again seeing Samantha’s look of determination.

Sam faced her father. “Try to keep him alive, Daddy,” she told him while nodding her head towards Bob. “I kinda like him.”

“I’ll do what I can, pumpkin,” Charles told her as he took her into an embrace. “Please be careful.”

As soon as her father released her, Lilly grabbed her into a great bear hug.

“You do me proud, granddaughter,” she told Sam. “Real proud. Now hurry back.”

Sam looked at Bob’s worried face for a moment, and without a word, she and Tink were gone.

“We have an hour,” Charles stated after several moments of silence. “We’d better get ready.”

Sam and Bob sat leaning against a huge tombstone near the edge of the cemetery, waiting for the troops they brought with them to complete a search for hidden enemies.

“This certainly brings back memories,” Bob said with a smile.

“Of what?” Sam asked absently, constantly scanning around them for movement.

“Why, of the first time we met, of course,” Bob answered, slightly wounded.

Sam turned to face him. “Oh, yeah! I didn’t even think of that.”

Bob leaned back, his fingers laced behind his head.

“I remember it so well,” he said in a mockingly reminiscent tone. “I was in a graveyard, much like this one, you were there to kill me, there were zombies…”

Sam leaned over and nudged him with her shoulder, almost knocking him over.

“You old softy,” she chided. “Are you going to get all mushy every time you are in a creepy old graveyard in the middle of the night with the threat of death hanging over your head?”

“Perhaps,” Bob smiled as he pulled himself back up from his teetering position. “And every time I have a price on my head, I will genuinely hope that it is by your sword that I meet my demise. I’m getting a bit misty eyed just thinking about it now.”

“Well, wipe your eyes and pay attention,” Sam said, suddenly focused again. “Someone’s coming.”

A light rustle of leaves to their right proved Samantha correct, and a small man hurried over to them in a crouching run.

“There isn’t anyone here but us, as far as we can tell,” he reported. “We have taken up positions around the yard to give you a warning if anyone shows up.”

“Good work, soldier,” Sam told him before turning to Bob. “You’re on.”

Bob gave one quick glance around the graveyard before standing. He hurried to a small hill in the center, surrounded by hundreds of grave markers. He paused and spoke to Sam and the soldier who had followed.

“We don’t have time to do this one at a time, and raising this many at once is going to take a lot out of me.” He told them. “It is imperative that I not be interrupted, and once I have finished the task I will have no magical energy remaining to protect myself, or you. The newly raised dead will be confused and unfocused. They may attack us. I will need a few minutes to regain my strength and assert my control over the undead.”
“Understood,” stated the soldier as Sam nodded.

Bob took one last look around, then threw his cloak back from his shoulders and raised his arms skyward. He began to chant, softly, his hands weaving around each other in a delicate dance of movement as his voice grew louder. The night gathered around him, enveloping him in a cloud of darkness. Soon, all that was visible of Bob was his faintly glowing hands, still dancing. Bob’s voice kept growing louder and louder, causing Sam to look nervously at the perimeter. The dancing hands separated, and moved away from each other until the darkness surrounding Bob began to take on a greenish tint. In the center, Bob stood; arms stiffly out to his sides with glowing fingertips splayed to the sky. The green fog began to spread, flowing from his palms across the ground until a sickly mist covered the ground, with only the tops of the headstones emerging.

Sam glanced at the small soldier, whose eyes were wide, but his weapon unflinching. Suddenly, she looked to a specific spot at the edge of the forest.

The green mist now completely enveloped the graveyard. Bob’s chanting grew still more in volume and the mist began to glow with a pulsating light. There was an almost inaudible beat beneath the pulses, like a sick heart beat slowly gaining strength.

Sam suddenly whirled to one side, her sword flashing. A clang and an arrow fell at Bob’s feet as he continued to chant.

“Cover him!” Sam shouted at the soldier. “Troops to the north wall!”

Several men emerged from the woods, stepping hesitatingly into the green fog at their feet and making their way towards the trio. Several of the Kings troops crashed through the brush in the north in an attempt to flush out the archer. Soon, a ragged circle surrounded Sam, Bob and the soldier, a few of the King’s men, and a larger number of mercenaries. Bob was shouting now, his voice on the edge of breaking. The fog was flashing so rapidly that movements were broken into changing still pictures. Bob’s hands were now at his waist, fingertips curled into claws. With a final shout, he pulled his hands skyward and the fog was gone. He fell to one knee, panting heavily.

Another arrow bounced off a nearby headstone.

“Another one!” Sam shouted as she gestured with her sword to the east. More mercenaries emerged from the woods, and began running towards them across the newly visible ground. Still gasping for air, Bob raised his head to see the advancing troops. He uttered a single, incomprehensible word, and fell to the ground. He rolled onto his back, arms outstretched to his sides, chest heaving rapidly.

One of the charging mercenaries suddenly fell to the ground. He rose just as fast, and began to resume his charge, but his leg was caught in something. He looked down to see what was holding him, and began to scream in terror. He dropped his weapon as has slapped at his own feet, attempting to crawl backwards.

More and more of the mercenaries began to mimic his actions as hands emerged from the ground to grasp at passing legs. The mercenaries’ attempts to pull free of their captors succeeded in only assisting the corpses in their emergence from their graves. The zombies slowly advanced on the hill, creating a ring of protection.

Swords flashed, bows twanged, and the zombies made sodden, unarmed attacks on the mercenaries. Panic was now beginning to infect the enemy, and many broke ranks and fled back into the woods.

“After them!” Sam shouted, “Don’t let them get back to report!”

The live soldiers pushed their way through the dead ones with a mixture of determination and revulsion before racing after their fleeting foes. The circle of the Undead fought those men who still were attempting to get to the Magician, and arming themselves with their weapons as they dispatched them.

Soon, the King’s troops gathered at the hill, panting and bloody.

Sam rounded on the soldier who had stood by her side.

“You said it was clear!” she accused. “There were at least fifty men there, how the hell did you miss them?”

“It was clear,” he retorted, refusing to back down. “I have no idea where they came from!”

“Don’t blame him, Sam” Bob said between gasps that were now beginning to slow. “As we expected, Norman anticipated our actions and put his own plan into place.”

He slowly got to his feet.

“If I had to hazard a guess,” he said, “Those troops were here before we were and concealed by Norman’s magic. When he sensed my spell, he ordered them to attack, knowing I would be preoccupied.”

“He can make troops invisible?” Sam demanded, “That’s quite a bit of tactical advantage. How do we know that we don’t have an entire squadron inside the castle right now?”

“It is much more difficult to conceal a moving person than one who is still.” Bob explained. “Norman would not have the power to conceal a large number of troops as they moved; it would exhaust him to near the point of death. Besides, I have left a magical field around the castle that would render such an invisibility spell inoperable.”

Bob’s breathing had returned to normal, and he pulled himself to his full height.

“Doesn’t that shield drain you?” Sam asked.

“No, and that is what makes me so bloody clever,” he answered with a smile. “Norman erected the shield himself. His paranoia that I would send a few concealed men into his midst caused him to cast the original spell. I merely cast a much smaller spell that prevents him from collapsing it. The shield is draining his energy, not mine.”

Sam smiled at him. “OK, I’ll admit that is pretty clever. We need to get back. If anyone got word back to the Prince that you were able to raise this many undead, they could attack at any time.”

“Agreed,” Bob nodded. “Shall we proceed?”

The live troops formed a circle around Sam and Bob, and they began the march back to the castle. A huge column of shuffling zombies followed in their wake.

*          *          *

The men outside the castle paced nervously, casting frequent glances to the forest beyond the meadow. The sun has beginning to peak above the horizon, casting everything in a grey light. Lookouts walked around the parapets, rotating positions to prevent their eyes playing tricks on them by staring at the same spot for hours.

The men outside the gates had much of the armor, and carried shields. Some were metal, some were wood and leather, and many were the remnants of barn doors. They were armed with swords, pitchforks, scythes, anything that would cut or maim. Seated out of sight on the ramparts, archers nervously checked and re-checked the tension on their bows.

Inside the castle, mothers tried to calm nervous and crying children. Castle servants were taking naps where ever they could after working through the night converting rooms into makeshift medical quarters. Wanda paced quickly from room to room, checking that everything was in place with eyes red from lack of sleep.

The King and his advisors stood on the rampart, watching the sun come up and staring down on the troops. The zombies stood in the meadow, unflinching and unmoving, their empty eyes gazing into the forest.

Lilly squinted to the east, shielding her eyes from the now risen sun.

“This waiting is killing me,” she complained. “I wish they would just hurry up and get started.”

The glare of the sun was impeded by a cloud of arrows emerging from the forest and arching their way towards the castle.

“Shields up!”Charles shouted at the troops, “Incoming!”

The troops outside the gate quickly ran together into a tight group and raised their shields over their heads. A few arrows sunk into them with a thunk or a clang, and a few fell inside the castle wall. Boys barely into their teens ran out from concealed bunkers and gathered the fallen arrows before dashing back inside. Another boy would take the bundle and run it up to the archers on the ramparts.

“Lilly,” Tink said in a dangerous tone, “the next time you feel like saying something like that, shut the hell up.”

Another volley of arrows rained down on the troops and the castle.

“Is that coward just going to keep throwing arrows at us or is he going to fight?” Lilly asked.
“What did I just tell you?” Tink demanded.

“Don’t worry, Ma” Charles told her. “The more arrows they shoot, the more we have. We haven’t lost a single man yet. They’ll run out soon, and then they will have to emerge from the woods.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Bob commented. “Norman is capable of conjuring more arrows, and in great quantities.

“Then why the hell didn’t you conjure up a few for us?” Tink demanded.

“As I have explained, Tink, not even magic can make something from nothing.” Bob snapped back.  “Magic gathers the elements, and a magician can shape their form. I was able to turn the farm tools into weapons, but I could only use the material presented to me. Look at their arrows; they are made of wood and stone, just like the forest. As long as Norman has energy, he can turn tree branches and rocks into arrows.”

“Shut up, Tink,” Sam ordered. “You know as well as I do that Bob has done everything he can to help.”
“I know that,” Tink pouted, “but our troops out there are playing ‘catch the arrow’ which isn’t a very healthy pastime.”

“Tink…” Sam said in a warning tone.

“No, Sam,” Bob interrupted. “Perhaps Tink is correct, and there is more that I can do.”

He raised his arms and began a chant familiar to the three women.

Lilly leaned in close and whispered into Sam’s ear. “The bees again? Your mage only knows a couple of tricks, doesn’t he?”

Sam ignored her grandmother, looking to the battleground as a gust of wind blew her hair in from of her face. Dark clouds were gathering over the forest, lightning forking down into the darkness. The wind increased and several zombies shifted position to prevent toppling over. The branches of the trees were whipping back and forth, leaves stripped from their branches. Dust devils arose in the meadow and grew larger as they advanced on the forests edge.

Cries of pain began to emerge over the howling wind, and a single soldier in plaid pants burst from the trees into the meadow. He was rubbing at red skin beneath flayed clothing. In moments, he was joined by hundreds more who immediately took up formation just out of reach of the swaying trees.

“That’s not all of them,” Charles stated.

“I’ll bet my girdle he’s got more men farther back in the forest for a second wave,” Lilly told him.

“General,” Bob said with his eyes still closed, “ready your archers.”

“We can’t waste our arrows at this distance,” Charles protested. “I’m not even sure our troops can shoot that far at all, let alone accurately.”

“Tell them to aim high, and to shoot on your command.” Bob told him. “Trust me.”

“Archers!” Charles shouted, “Make ready and aim high! Fire on my command!”

The ramparts grew archers, bows pointed at the sky and strings back as far as they were able.”

Charles looked at Bob, who nodded in spite of never opening his eyes.

“Fire!” Charles bellowed.

Fifty bow strings were released and a gust of wind erupted from the west, carrying the arrows the distance to the forest. Opposing shields were raised, and very few men fell. In spite of the attack, they did not advance. Bob lowered his arms and the winds died. Within moments, the skies were clear once again.

“They’re waiting for us to attack,” Charles murmured. “They want us away from the castle. We have to get them to come to us, we cannot scatter our forces.”

“Leave that to me,” Tink said as she hopped up on the wall in plain sight.

“Tink!” Bob started towards her with fear in his eyes.

“I’m fine, string bean, I ain’t gonna fall.” Tink laughed. “Make it so they can hear me.”

Bob reached forward and touched a pair of fingers to Tink’s lips.

“That’s it?” Tink said and her voice blasted the group back a pace. Tink made one of her best evil grins and faced the forest.

“Hey Plaid-Pants!” her voice boomed across the distance, “Remember me? I’m the elf that kicked your asses before and I’m gonna do it again!”

The enemy troops stirred in anger, and a couple started to move towards the castle, only to be restrained by their fellows.

“Yep,” Charles said. “They want us to come to them.”

“Oh come on!” Tink taunted. “You aren’t afraid of one little elf girl, are ya? Don’t you want to get a piece of this?”

With that, Tink twirled in a pirouette that ended with her facing Bob with a grin. She dropped her pants to her ankles and bent over, wiggling her bare rump at the enemy. She raised her eyebrows at Bob questioningly. Bob shook his head in reply. Tink pulled her pants up and faced the enemy again.

“None of you want any of that?” She asked, wounded. “That hurts. From what I remember of when you were all naked, you’re the right size for an elf, if you know what I mean. Oh, I know! Maybe you don’t like girls! Maybe I should get a guy up here to tempt you!”

Bob snorted with laughter and suddenly joined Tink on the wall. With great ceremony, he lifted his robes and bent over. The group gasped. Tink leaned dangerously forward and craned her neck to see what Bob was exposing. She looked at Sam and mouthed a single word: “Wow.”

With a roar, the enemy charged. Bob bounded down off the wall, and placed his fingers on Tink’s lips to cancel the spell before standing beside Sam, grinning at her. She stared at him in shock. Bob blushed, then addressed the General

“Charles, perhaps now would be a good time to use the ‘special’ arrows.”

Charles nodded, and then shouted the order.

“Archers! Special ammo on my order!”

The men gingerly grabbed the single arrow in front of them tipped with a small glass vial. Arrows notched and ready, they awaited the command to fire. Charles raised his hand over his head, carefully watching the advancing troops.

“Wait…” he muttered to himself, “wait… FIRE!”

The arrows flew through the air over the heads of the zombies and broke upon impact. A burst of green mist, and the enemy troops came to a literal screaming halt, clutching at their faces and retching violently.

Tink, unsurprisingly, was sniffing the air with curiosity. She happened to catch a whiff.

“Oh my Gods!” she exclaimed, nose wrinkled in disgust.

Bob touched his fingers to his lips and his voice carried over the vomiting of the enemy.

“That smell will come off in salt water!”

The troops had been trying to cover their noses with their clothing, only to end up vomiting down their shirts. They broke ranks and started running to the south, in the direction of the sea.

“We won’t be able to use that tactic again,” Bob announced.

“For a first wave defense,” Charles responded, “it was very effective. Well done, Mage.”

“Besides,” Sam told him, “we still have a trick or two up our sleeves.”

“Second wave,” Lilly said flatly as she pointed to the forest. “Looks like they brought out the real soldiers this time.

Once again, the courtyard was filled with people. Noticeably absent were the scattered piles and baskets of rotting produce. The King stood on the podium with his arms raised over his head, asking for silence.

“People of Rom,” Ronald bellowed, “I hope that the last week as improved your lives somewhat, and I sincerely hope that our kingdom will be blessed with prosperity in the years to come.”

For the first time, a cheer erupted from the crowd. King Ronald raised his arms again, his face solemn.

“Unfortunately,” he continued after the uproar had died down, “before we may work towards our prosperous future, we must confront the demons of our past. Our new Court Magician has informed me that he has obtained information that the banished Prince and his followers have raised a force with the intent to take the kingdom by force within a month.”

The Kings words descended upon a crowd that had fallen into a heavy silence. There was not even an undertone of murmuring.

“In my opinion,” began Ronald before he paused. His shoulders slumped and his head hung slightly for a moment before he faced the crowd and started anew.

“Forgive me, I find it is difficult to hold myself to the Royal standard,” He said. In a much more conversational tone, he continued. “I feel like the people of this country have suffered enough. They have endured so much at the hands of my son and my advisors. Much of this is due to my own indifference, and I find it difficult to believe that I have any right to make a decision that will impact all of you without giving you a chance to make your own decisions. I feel that we should face these enemies, these foes of the Kingdom, and deny them any chance to regain control over your lives and your property. You have all worked very hard, against the odds and in spite of oppression. I feel you should have the right to keep what you have worked for.

“To that end, the Kingdom will need every available man to join the fight. We will need every person to contribute. What we have left of our army, while brave, is inexperienced. We must all work very hard, to become as prepared as possible in a woefully short time. It is certain that if they take the castle, the take the kingdom. You can fight, or you can flee, that is your choice. It is up to you, the people of Rom, to ensure…”

Ronald broke off mid sentence as he noticed the crowd before him parting to allow a young man to stagger his way to the front. The man was obviously walking only by sheer force of will, his exhaustion evident on his face and in his stride. His clothing was covered in both fresh and drying blood, and wounds were visible on every piece of exposed flesh.

Reaching the front of the crowd, the young man collapsed onto one knee and raised his head to the King.

“Sire. Magician,” he croaked before collapsing onto the ground. “I have a report.”

“Stuart!” Bob cried as he raised a hand. Stuart was gently lifted by an unseen hand and carefully deposited onto the balcony. Tink disappeared inside and quickly returned with a basin of water and a clean cloth. As she cleaned the wounds on his face, Stuart awoke and saw the concerned faces around him.

“Where is your companion?” Bob asked.

Stuarts exhausted eyes fixed on Bob’s face.

“He’s with the enemy, sir.”

“Captured?” Charles asked.

“No, sir,” Stuart shook his head and winced. “He betrayed me, he betrayed us all. He told them all of our plans, everything.”
“That’s what we call in the business a bad thing,” Lilly said with a snarl.

“Were you able to find out anything of their plans?” Bob asked softly.

Stuart nodded.

They’re right behind me, have been for days. They attack at dawn.”

Having given his warning, Stuart allowed himself to finally collapse.

“Wanda!” Charles called. “We have a wounded man out here!”

Wanda appeared in the doorway and quickly surveyed the situation. “We’ll take care of the boy,” she said before bellowing orders to the castle staff. She stood by Stuart, waiting for the staff to arrive.

“Wanda,” Charles said to her, “you should probably prepare for more. We go into battle tomorrow.”

Wanda strode over to her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Be safe,” she admonished him before giving him a soft kiss. She looked at Sam.

“You stay safe as well,” she said. “And please look after your father, he’s only a farmer, you know.”

A huge disembodied head suddenly appeared above the crowd, facing the group gathered on the balcony, an evil grin on its face.

A collective gasp erupted from the crowd, and one voice cried out “The Prince!”

“Hello, Father,” the Prince’s head said. “You seem surprised to see me.”

“He just didn’t think it was possible for your fat head to get any bigger,” Tink retorted.

The floating head ignored her and slowly rotated to face the gathered crowd.

“People of Rom,” Donald began. “Tomorrow I come to claim my rightful place on the throne as your King. No longer will you suffer under the yoke of my father. I was banished from this land for attempting to convince my father that he was treating you, the good people of Rom, cruelly and unfairly. My heart went out to you, the people, and I will return to right the wrongs may father has subjected you to.”

“You lying ungrateful brat!” Ronald exploded, his face red with anger. “It was you and your cohorts that brought abject misery to my people!”

“Oh, father,” the prince said, his face contorted into a forced expression of sadness. “It saddens me to know that your blood runs in my veins. Your cruelty to these people, your lust for gold and power blinded you to their plight. As long as your coffers were full, you turned a blind eye on those who filled them.”

“The King ain’t the one who used my milk cow for archery practice!” cried a voice in the crowd.

“The King isn’t the one who shamed my daughter by taking her innocence against her will!” a woman shouted.

“Your hunting party galloped their horses through my freshly planted field!” A man yelled.

The forced look of sadness was gone from the floating head of the prince. It glared down at the people, and someone hurled an apple core harmlessly through it.

“You fools!” Donald bellowed. “Tomorrow I shall sit upon the throne, my army in place surrounding this kingdom, ensuring that my will be done! You are the servants of King Donald, and you will keep my armies fed as we expand my territory into the neighboring kingdoms. You shall all bow before your liege, and those who defy me shall meet with the most terrible of…”

Bob raised a finger and the head suddenly shrank to a point, which vanished with a small pop. “Your son talks too much,” he told the King.

“Bob,” Sam said from beside Stuart. “He’s waking up.”

Bob and Charles hurried to her side.

“Stuart,” Bob asked in a soft voice, “were you able to learn anything that may help us?”

Stuart shook his head, and immediately winced in pain. “No, sir, I’m sorry. All I know is that I saw about a thousand troops and most of them seemed to be mercenaries. They were only a couple of hours behind me.”

The group exchanged looks of alarm.

“We can’t count on the fact that the Prince said tomorrow,” Lilly said. “We have to act now.”

The King stood and addressed the uneasy crowd.

“People!” he shouted. “I cannot afford the time to act royally any more. We have about a thousand troops at our doorstep wanting to take everything that we have. We must prepare to act now. General!”

Charles stepped forward and took the spot the King was vacating.

“All the women and children get inside the castle now!” he ordered. “All the rest of you get back to your farms and homes and grab anything that can be used as a weapon. If you see anyone who didn’t come here today, tell them the same thing and get back here as soon as possible. Report to the Armory upon your arrival.”

The crowd milled in confusion, but no one was leaving the courtyard.

“Now, people!” Lilly shouted as she elbowed her son out of her way. “You don’t have time to think, you don’t have anyplace to run. Your only chance to live is to fight to the death. Your best chance to win is to do what the General says. The mercenaries won’t care about you, or your property. They will take whatever they can get their hands on. It’s up to you to stop them. Now GO!”

The crowd rushed into action. The women gathered their children and pressed into the gates of the castle, and the men raced out of the courtyard, their heavy work boots thumping.

Lilly and Tink went to the armory and began readying the few weapons and armor available for distribution. Sam and Bob met the farmers as they returned, examining and modifying their farm implements into viable weapons. Charles and Ronald hovered over a map set on the huge dining table, formulating defensive plans.

Charles divided the troops into thirds, and placed one group outside the castle guarding the gate, another group in the meadow ready to meet the first advance from the enemy. The last group was stationed inside the castles courtyard, ready should the enemy breach the gate. It was dark when everyone was in place, and the group was gathered around the dining table.

“We don’t have enough,” Charles told the group. “We just don’t have enough people. Even if they were highly trained troops, we wouldn’t have enough.”

“We’ll have enough,” Bob told him as he stood. “I must get to the graveyard.”
“I’m going with you,” Sam said. “Norman knows that you can raise the dead, and he may have someone waiting for you.”

“Take some of the men from the inner castle group with you,” Charles ordered. “We can’t afford to lose either of you.”

Sam nodded as she followed Bob out of the room at a trot.

Everyone was already seated when Sam and Bob entered the room and took their seats.

“And just what have you two been up to?” Lilly asked with a bawdy wink.

“Bob was wrapping up a project in his lab,” Sam explained, a bit hastily. “A new weapon, stink bombs.”

“Uh huh,” Tink said while rolling her eyes, “That sounds plausible.”

Sam began to retort, but the King interrupted by loudly clearing his throat.

“May I introduce the Royal Historian, Humphrey.”

The King gestured to an impossibly old man slumped in his chair at the far end of the table. His head was bowed and his bearded chin rested on his chest. His long, white hair cascaded over his face, concealing his features. The hair fluttered with each breath. He gave no indication that he had heard the King.

“Historian Humphrey?” prompted the King again.

The old man responded with a rattling snore.

“Humphrey!” bellowed the King.

The old man’s head snapped upright, arms flailing wildly.

“Quills down!” he shouted. “Pass your scrolls to the front of the class!”

He glared around the room at the crowd that was staring at him in bemusement.

“Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

The King stood to get Humphrey’s attention. “I asked you here to provide us with information regarding my son’s military education.”

Humphrey peered over his tiny spectacles at the King.

“Your son?”

“Yes, my son,” the King answered, irritated. “Don. The Prince?”

“Oh yes,” Humphrey nodded. “Such a good lad. Very high spirits, of course, but that’s to be expected. A very good pupil, one of my favorites.”

“I banished him,” the King said flatly.

“Oh, thank the Gods,” Humphrey said, shoulders sagging in relief. “I’ve spent the past five years begging the Reaper to take me before that little shit ascended to the throne.”

“He was that bad?” asked the King. “Why didn’t you inform me?”

“It isn’t wise to speak negatively about the King’s son,” Humphrey answered. “Especially when the little brat will eventually get the crown, and more importantly, you still have to see him every day. Little bugger would have come in to his next lesson with a plan of vengeance, I can assure you.”

“Excuse me for interrupting,” Charles said, “what can you tell us about Prince Don’s education in military history and tactics?”

“The usual stuff: how the Kingdom was founded; what battles were fought and how; when and where they took place. He never paid much attention to those lessons, though. They didn’t interest him in the slightest.”

“What did interest him, then?” King Ronald asked, frowning.

“Chambermaids, mostly,” Humphrey said. “That, and provoking small animals. He found a great deal of pleasure in provoking the chambermaids using the small animals.”

“What interested him militarily?” Charles clarified.

“Oh, that. He would look at the maps and histories and battle details and declare that both leaders were stupid. He was rather gifted at analyzing the battles and forming a new strategy for either side that would change the outcome. I saw no flaw in his reasoning, but I am not a military strategist.”

“So, he’s a good at strategy, but has no field experience,” Charles mused. “Maybe I can use that.”

“You need anything else?” Humphrey asked, his chin already falling back onto his chest.

“No. Thank you for your kind assistance, Historian.” The King said. “We may again call on your knowledge as we formulate a battle plan.”

Humphrey responded with a loud snore.

“Magician,” Charles began, turning to face Bob. “What kind of foe do we have in the former Court Magician?”

“Greedy and unscrupulous,” Bob stated simply. “He has absolutely no qualms whatsoever in doing whatever it takes to further his own agenda, no matter the consequences to those around him. His magical abilities are strong, but hampered by his unreasonable temper. It causes him to act in haste. Fortunately, I discovered long ago that when he gets in that state, he stammers. There is nothing in the magical world more difficult than correctly repeating the words of a spell in an arcane language while stammering.”
“Great,” Tink said, “so all we have to do is piss him off and he cant do shit. What pisses him off the most?”

“Anyone that does something better than him,” Bob answered the elf. “He is quite arrogant, and thinks that he is superior to almost everyone. Proving otherwise unhinges him.”

“I’m not sure how we could use that on the battlefield, Bob.” Sam observed.

“There is one other way to limit his effectiveness,” Bob continued slowly, “but it is even less likely to be used in a battle situation.”

“And that other method is?” Sam prompted.

“Rejection. Any kind of rejection, but most significantly by a woman.” Bob explained. “While we were attending school, a pretty young witch struck his fancy. Norman tried everything to woo her, ignoring her polite refusals for months. She finally got tired of being polite, and blew up at him. Unfortunately, this happened on the grounds in front of all of his peers. She told she wasn’t interested, she wasn’t attracted to him at all, and that his personality repulsed her.”
“What did he do?” Sam asked.

“He cursed the poor girl, using a very devious curse. He is cruel, but intelligent. The girl in question was a beautiful soul, as evidenced by the fact that it took months for her to get tired of his daily attentions. Normans curse was tied to those qualities in her that were good and virtuous. Any time she showed the smallest of kindnesses, any time she thought of others more than herself, she grew physically more repulsive. She was such a pure soul that she was unable to resist her impulses to do good things, and she became truly hideous in a very short time.”

“That poor girl!” Tink cried. “What happened to her?”

“After many months of study and experimentation, a solution was found. The original spell could not be broken, but it could be modified. The curse remained, but now her physical beauty was reflected directly by her actions. If she was kind, and good, which of course was in her nature, she shone brighter than the noon sun. If she was petty and cruel, she became less so. She now lives with a good man who is able to understand and accept the nature of her curse, and doesn’t mind the fact that she gets repulsive on bad days.”

“Well, I guess that’s better than no cure at all,” Tink admitted grudgingly, not entirely satisfied with the ending of the story.

“It was truly a blessing for her,” Bob said sadly, “though she does not see it that way.”

“You knew her?” Sam asked.

“Indeed I did,” Bob answered with a slight smile in her direction. “It was I who was able to modify the curse. Working so closely with her for that amount of time, when she had been shunned by all those around her, caused her to develop certain feelings for me. Feelings, I am afraid, I could not return. At the time, I felt that my life needed to take a path that precluded a serious relationship. She felt, incorrectly, that my rejection of her was the reason I ‘chose’ to modify the spell, rather than remove it. As she got closer to the man who would become her husband, he asked me to leave. As I had recently finished my schooling, I agreed.”
“Why would he ask you to leave?” Tink asked.

“Apparently, if the girl sees me or thinks about me, her mood turns sour. I have already explained the consequences of that. But enough of my tale, we have gone decidedly off course. I recommend that we continue our discussion of the crisis at hand.”

“Agreed,” Charles stated. “What we need to know, Magician, is whether or not you can defend against his magical attacks. No offense intended, but we need an honest and realistic appraisal of your abilities versus his.”

“I believe I will be able to counter most of his spells,” Bob answered. “I was the top student at the Academy we both attended, scoring higher marks than Norman in every class. My skills will be tasked, of that I have no doubt. I feel that my attention will need to be focused on him, and as such, if my assistance is needed in any other arena, Norman will have to be neutralized first.”

“I hope that we can form an army of sufficient size that your assistance will not be necessary,” Charles stated.

“Perhaps I should begin preparing an army of the Undead?”

“I would rather not show that hand to our enemy, or the populace, unless necessary. The King said. “I don’t feel that my subjects will be able to accept that on top of all of the many other surprises. We are still a very suspicious people, and we may alienate our own source of troops. However, you should be prepared to utilize that skill, if required.”

Bob nodded in agreement. “I will need to know the location of the closest burial ground, preferably one that has a large number of fallen soldiers and warriors.”

“The Kingdom has set aside a special cemetery for fallen warriors,” Ronald informed him. “The Historian can show you where it is located.”

Humphrey continued to snore loudly.

“Humphrey?” the king prompted, attempting to wake the old man. “HUMPHREY!”

“No talking during exams!” Humphrey exploded with a jump.

“Show the magician the location of Warriors Hollow, if you would.”

“Ahh, it is good to see the younger generation showing their respect to our fallen heroes.” Humphrey nodded in appreciation.

“He might have to raise them,” Ronald told him flatly.

“Oh,” said the old man, looking confused. “Why the hell do you want to dig up a bunch of decades old corpses? That’s disgusting.”

“In order to bring them back to life to defend the Kingdom,” Bob explained.

“That’s even more disgusting,” Humphrey announced. “But, hey, whatever you want.”

“The proclamation is tomorrow,” Ronald told the group. “We should all retire and get a good nights rest. It may be the last chance we have to do so in quite some time.”
With a chorus of nods, the group broke up and departed for their rooms.

Charles stood with his hands on his hips, watching the troops spar with each other.

“Small,” he commented, “but what there is seems to be pretty good.”

“If I had a copper for every time I’ve said that…” Lilly muttered.

“Shut up, Ma.” Charles ordered.

Lilly looked around to see if anyone appreciated her little joke. Sam dutifully ignored her, and the King was looking wounded. She sidled up to him and whispered in his ear.

“Not you, Ronnie. It was just a joke. You are positively royal.”

The small group continued their observation of the training troops. The King had introduced Charles to the gathered troops and informed them of his leadership status. As a result, a few of them attempted to curry favor with their new leader by putting extra effort into their exercises, while others continued to show casual indifference.

“How many troops do you think we will be up against?” Charles asked.

“I would guess at least a hundred and fifty,” Sam answered. “We saw about fifty mercenaries with the Prince before we got here, and we figure about a hundred troops left the Kingdom with him. He may have picked up a few more mercs, so to be safe, lets say two hundred.”

“And it looks like we have maybe a hundred troops here,” Charles said with a sigh. “I really don’t like two to one odds. We’re outnumbered and they have better training. Do we have any advantage? What kind of leadership are they going to have?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that the Chancellor doesn’t have any kind of military skills,” Lilly said. “We can probably say the same for the magician.”

“My son was schooled in military matters,” the King said. “From what I was told, he did very well when he could be coerced into actually attending his lessons.”

“So the Prince is the one who will be calling the shots,” Charles said thoughtfully. “Maybe we have an advantage there. Who provided the schooling? Someone here in the Kingdom?”

“Yes, the Royal Historian.” Ronald answered. “A very old, very wise man. Some say he knows so much about the past hundred years because he lived through them.”

Charles nodded.

“I don’t like the assumption that the magician won’t be able to contribute to the planning,” he said. “In order to get to be a magician, you have to be rather intelligent. Plus, our own magician has been invaluable in our planning, which makes me want to know more about the opposition.”

“Bob is probably the only person that can answer your questions,” Sam said. “He’s the only one who knew him before he got here and started acting like the Kingdoms best friend.”

Charles took a last look at his new troops before turning to face the rest of the group.

“Let’s get the magician and the historian together with the rest of us and see what kind of information we can pull together. We are going to need a plan if we have any hope of succeeding, and we can’t plan without more information.”

*          *          *

Sam looked at the door to Bob’s lab and hesitated. She could see a sick smoke curling up from underneath it, and her nose wrinkled at a foul odor. She held her breath and pushed the heavy door open. As she stepped inside, she involuntarily gasped. She waved her hand in front of her nose in a futile attempt to wave away the smoke and smell.

“Oh my Gods!” she exclaimed in Bob’s direction. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Oh!” Bob jumped a little in surprise. “One moment, please, Samantha. I am at a very critical juncture in this potion.”

Sam stood near the doorway, a hand covering her mouth and nose. Bob stirred a cauldron while various vials and boiling beakers hung in the air around him. Occasionally, one of the containers would splash in a drop of their contents, or empty themselves completely into the rolling mixture. The smoke began to change color, from a pale gray to a sickly purple. Bob steeled himself, then leaned over the concoction and sniffed. His nose wrinkled, and the floating ingredients moved themselves out of the way as he stood upright. He raised his hands and cried a single word.

“Zinthos!”

A huge mushroom shaped cloud erupted from the cauldron, which was immediately punctured by a great fountain of flames. The flames swirled malevolently for several moments before dying back into the cauldron. Bob waved away the last wisps of smoke and peered inside. He nodded with satisfaction before finally turning to address Sam.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

“Dad and the King want to have a strategy meeting,” she said through her hand. “We are getting the historian that trained the Prince in military matters, and need you there to give us any information on their magician. What the hell are you making?”

“This?” he asked, glancing into the cauldron. “It’s a fantastic new potion of my own design. Placed into small glass vials, it can be hurled at the enemy where it will break and create a very foul smelling cloud that clings to anyone it comes in contact with. Most unbearable.”

“I believe that,” Sam replied. “It really stinks in here.”

“Oh, its not completed yet,” Bob explained. “Once I have it bottled, I will cast the final curing spell. It is much too odorous to attempt to bottle after completion. When you get a whiff of the completed potion, it will cause violent retching, and the only way to get the stench off of you is to bath in salt water.”

“So,” Sam said in a slightly angry tone, “while we are out trying to get some troops trained to defend the castle, you are down here mixing up joke potions?”

“No, Samantha,” he answered, voice suddenly cold. “Each of these vials will incapacitate as many as five enemy combatants. This will remove more foes faster than any of your weapons.”

“But they can come back after getting the stench off to fight again,” she argued. “Mine don’t.”

“I do not use my skills to take life, Sam,” Bob said. “The men this potion affects will have to travel three days to the nearest natural salt water, retching and heaving the entire way. The three day journey back will not seem to be worth the effort if they believe they may have to do it all again.”

“They can still return to fight again,” Sam repeated.

“I will not use my talents to take a life.” Bob said with finality.

They stared at each other for several long minutes, each silently challenging the other to continue the argument. Sam finally gave way.

“Can you leave your stink bombs long enough to come to the meeting?”

“Yes, at this point it will need to steep for about an hour before bottling,” Bob answered.

“Well, let’s go then,” Sam said as she turned and started for the door. “The historian should be there by now to tell us what the Prince is capable of.”

“Very helpful,” Bob said, not moving. “Sam?”

Something about the new tone in his voice stopped Sam, her hand inches from the door. Bob slowly walked forward until he was very close to her, not meeting her eyes.

“I know that you don’t agree with my methods,” he said softly, “and you may not understand them. But I sincerely hope that you can respect them.”

“You’re wrong, Bob,” she answered after several moments, “I do understand your position. And I want you to know that I do respect your position, almost as much as I respect you.” She paused before continuing. “I can only say that in my experience, a wounded foe always comes back, they always want to finish what they started, they always want revenge. I once felt as you do, but long years of re-fighting the same battles that I thought I had already won have changed my mind. A fight that was over in minutes turns into a year long battle, because they just can’t get it through their head that they lost.”

Bob moved even closer to Sam, and took both of her hands in his own. He bent his head and looked her in the eye.

“I don’t harm them, Sam. I may embarrass or humiliate them, but I don’t physically harm them unless it is the absolute last resort. I never have to deal with the vengeance of a orphaned child, or a man who has lost a limb. They don’t return, because I leave them with little doubt that they will be struck helpless again. You fight with strength, and with skill. These are two qualities that can be improved upon, with the right effort. If you leave them alive, they feel that they can train, become stronger, until they can win. And they will keep training until they do. Most people don’t know how to fight against my magics, so they recognize the futility of trying. I have never fought the same battle twice.”

Sam stared into his eyes, somewhat shaken by the sincerity and conviction in his voice.

“You,” she said in a whisper,” are an extraordinary man Bobrogonzo. I hope your beliefs don’t get you killed.”

“I hope the same for you, Samantha. You are much braver than I, and stronger. But when you fight, the slightest mistake, the smallest of hesitations could mean your life. If harm were to befall you, it would be most… disagreeable to me.”

Sam released a hand and slipped an arm around his waist as she asked, slyly, “And why is that?”

“I can hear the outcry now. ‘Look! There goes the pervert magician, reanimating beautiful women for his sick pleasures!’ I hate pitchforks.”

Sam smiled, and then stretched to give him a quick kiss.

“You are growing on me, magician,” she said.

Bob glanced quickly at his midsection in mock alarm.

“Not yet, but hold me any tighter and that may no longer be true.”

Sam released him and slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Come on,” she ordered as she quickly exited the laboratory. “We have a meeting to get to.”

Bob watched her depart until she disappeared around a corner.

“Ow,” he said, rubbing his arm where she had slapped him. He smiled and hurried to the banquet hall.