The Fey Conquest, # 8— "The Tower and the Goats"
- David Parker
- Oct 2, 2023
- 4 min read
[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]
Swain’s war-band approached what the natives called The Village of the Goat Esper, which after the Village of the Thrift Esper, Swain had related hopes to buy livestock and perhaps find fresh recruits and informants. What they found was that the village had anticipated their arrival, and had stuffed a fortified tower with people, provisions, their eponymous goats, along with their patron espers. The village did in fact have an abundance of goats, and some of their herds remained in the surrounding area, unable to be taken into their hold. They learned from one of their own informants that The Village of the Goat had likely hidden their herds from the intruder, and if it would take days of tarrying to find them.
The village had also disguised their wells, suspected of using magic in doing so. Swain reserved respect for the shrewd villagers, and sought only to water their men and animals without making a lengthy detour.
Minus One and Numyst accompanied Swain in approaching the tower, each riding a horse. Before they drew close, the villagers were already jeering them.
“Invaders from the Land of Sh*t Heap!” “Go back to the land of Sh*t-Hole!”
Some stones were hurled, most missed, others causing their horses to shrug indignantly.
Swain signaled for silence, waiting for them to speak in a civil tone.
They never did this, until Numyst used one of his clerical abilities of thaumaturgy, speaking in an ethereally empowered voice that boomed, “SILENCE, IN THE NAME OF ZAKARUM.”
The villagers, impressed for the nonce, fell silent.
After a pause, Swain said, “Our soldiers need water,” he said, “Tell us where to find the wells, and we’ll leave you in peace.”
Their response, in addition to more insults, was a volley of about nine arrows. The villagers, most being miserable shots, were off the mark except two that sunk into Swain’s warhorse, which screamed in pain and hurled Swain to the ground. Garyf Minus One was averse to death, and hastily retreated. Numyst stayed by his side and dragged his stunned liege to safety, another arrow skittering off his pauldron.
The horse had fallen to the ground, writhing in pain, and whether by means of insult or hoping to put it out of its misery, they filled it with four more arrows. It did little to speed its death, and the poor wretch lay twitching for some time until it bled out.
Swain’s became incensed when he heard a little girl call, “Boo hoo! Did your poor horsey die!?”
Though Swain had seen many horses die in the battles he faced, he nevertheless formed a bond with Swagger, his warhorse. He was endeared to his unusually proud and expressive companion, and swore it laughed at his jokes. He had imagined that Zakarum would see his horse through to a long life and a merciful end.
Unfortunately for the Goat Village, Swain’s men knew exactly what to do, and started readying the ropes and the draft animals before he even gave the command. They began an ominous tune:
“…Little men hide in lofty halls, Cling to their mums when battle calls, Safe inside on a pile of dough, What they gonna do when their tower falls? What they gonna do when their tower falls?
Sing for a penny, Sing for an ale, What they gonna do when their tower fails? What they gonna do when their tower fails? …”
The Villagers of the Goat were clueless before Swain’s animals were half-way ready, the soldiers giving a wide berth to the tower until the ropes could be used as one to pull it down. The villagers sent arrows miserably off the mark in the process, which their squires collected. When they realized what was happening, one fool began screaming in panic the location of the wells and their plentiful goats, which the soldiers duly noted, and duly paid no heed.
“There are children in that tower,” said one of the female camp followers. Numyst’s voice boomed despite opting not to use his thaumaturgy, “THEY INSULTED ZAKARUM AND OUR LIEGE,” then added, “BEYOND REPENTANCE!!!”
As the tower fell, there was a great cry of jubilation among Swain’s men, much less so the Fey auxiliaries, who shuddered at such frightful strength.
From there, after they mercifully killed the broken survivors, they tarried some to seize their animals, espers, and what could be salvaged from the tower. They found an abundance of provisions in the ruins, though no surviving casks of wine, as well as twelve usable bows, seventy-three usable arrows, a fat helping of silver, and odd scraps of metal.
Swain, grateful to Numyst and the responsiveness of his soldiers, declared they should feast on goat for the rest of the day, and the Separatists spent the night in celebration of their swift and sure victory.
Their Fey auxiliaries remained respectfully quiet and subdued, though they received a share of the meat. Though he was feared, that was all the more reason to think twice before crossing the Rune Lord.
There was song throughout the eve, the soldiers returning a number of times to a favorite:
“A long time ago, Way back in History, The King of the Swamps, Invented Limberry! Their girls have warts, Their boys are queer, But God bless their ugly monk, the man who invented Beer!
Beer, beer, beer, nonny, beer, beer, beer… “
And before the night was through, the Fey Folk were hushed as they returned to the ominous tune:
“...Fight for your women, Fight for your wife, Hiding in a tower won’t save your life! Hiding in a tower won’t save your life!”
*-------------------------------------------*
Think about it: I’m resolved to write 30+ short stories a month, complete with beautiful illustrations. Combined with my unique writing style, innovative ideas, and unlimited creativity, I’m making magic happen in your life. Two comic books cost eight bucks, and it’s the same stuff you’ve been hearing about for at least fifty years. Voluntarily pay me at least five bucks a month, and you’ll know you’re getting your money’s worth. Be a team player, and we’ll all make some magic happen together. Swain and the Rising Dawn Society can’t make it without you, fellas. Donate via Venmo, Paypal, or GoFundMe, and I’ll be all hands on deck. Hell, I could be doing 60 short stories a month if I had some motivation to do so ;)
Here’s the info:
Venmo: David Parker @TheRat2k1
.
GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/439c79b7
Comments