BLOOD ON A GRASS CANVAS (Part 2)
Last time….Theunorg slaughtered two innocent merchants and was on the prowl for more victims.
xander the merchant twirled and kicked hard at the giant mushroom. The magical fungus burst, scattering clouds of brightly coloured dust across the forest floor.
“You’re excellent at mushroom hunting, xander,” he sang. Then, adopting a higher, more feminine voice, he answered himself. “Thank you! But you forgot to comment on my shining beauty!”
Before xander could pay himself any more compliments, a figure emerged from between the trees. It was Theunorg. His battered armour was spattered with blood and his dead eyes glowed ominously.
“Hello,” said xander cheerfully. “I suppose you’ve come to marvel at my beauty? I’m irresistible, aren’t I?”
A frown of confusion crossed Theunorg’s scarred face as he glanced around the clearing. The place was empty save for xander and his unicorn, waiting patiently under a spreading oak.
“I thought there were two of you,” said Theunorg. “I heard a man and a woman.”
xander beamed. “You heard my special voices! Aren’t I a marvellous performer?”
“That was you? Complimenting yourself?”
“Absolutely. Self-confidence is so important, I’ve always thought. Don’t you love yourself?”
Theunorg pondered this for a moment. He had never really loved anything. Except for bloodshed.
“How disappointing,” Theunorg sighed. “You can play all the silly tricks you like, but you’re still going to die. You don’t even have a weapon.”
And with that, the notorious killer leapt forward, his magical speedboots humming as they came to life, his great notched sword whirling like the tail of an angry cat.
In a single, elegant motion, xander held up a handful of yellow dust, took in a deep lungful of air and blew hard. The dust flew into Theunorg’s eyes. Blinded, the killer stumbled over a root and went careening into a tree.
By the time he stumbled to his feet, xander had mounted his unicorn and was charging out of the forest at full pelt. Even the speedboots wouldn’t be enough to catch up with that damned merchant now, Theunorg thought. It was time to let this one go for now. But he’d get him in the end. Just like he always did.
***
The great palace of Eastern Kingstown echoed with the assorted sounds of the crowd. Teeming ranks of KIngsguard stood silently in their shining gold armour, while merchants, fishermen, miners, and other honest Canvas Legacy folk stood patiently watching events unfold. At the centre of the room sat the mighty King Taylor Ryver, listening carefully as xander told the story of his miraculous escape.
“…and I galloped away as fast as I could, alerted the citizens, then came straight here,” xander finished. “Remarkable, aren’t I?”
The King sat and stared for a moment. Before he could speak, Tres the jester emerged from beside the throne and chuckled.
“Remarkably stupid, I’d say,” he quipped.
“That’s right,” said the King. “Why did you have to blow yellow dust in his face? You know I decreed that any yellow dust found in the kingdom must be brought to me on pain of death. I should have your head for this.”
Two Kingsguard grabbed xander by the shoulders and began to drag him away.
“I was only trying to escape with my life!” xander protested. “I had to do something.”
“Perhaps you ought to show mercy, oh powerful King of dust,” said Tres. “After all, cutting his head off might improve his appearance. And you wouldn’t want to reward him for defying your orders.”
The King waved a hand and the guards released xander.
“If you’re finished being ridiculous,” said xander, “shall we get back to the matter at hand? Theunorg is slaughtering people all over the two kingdoms and someone needs to do something about it.”
“True,” said the King. “But don’t look at me. I’m too busy collecting dust to go hunting down criminals. If this Theunorg character is causing such a problem, you’ll have to deal with him yourselves.”
Gasps and muttered curses could be heard from the group of onlookers at the back of the throne room.
“None of us is strong enough to take him down,” called out Lynn, a wealthy farmer and adventurer.
“Never trust a monarch,” muttered Azurean, a wandering swordsman.
“You’re King of this realm, “added Klinthios, the fish merchant. “It’s up to you to keep us safe.”
More shouts came from the group, and the assembled tradesmen and merchants grew angrier and angrier until it was impossible to make out the words, only the hum of discontent.
“Quiet!” shouted the King. “I’ll help you. But first, you must fill my vaults with yellow dust. On the day I can swim in a pool of dust, I’ll go out with my own sword and take Theunorg down. Until then, leave me alone…or I’ll have your heads.”
The crowd filed out of the throne room and into the streets of East Kingstown. The evening grew cloudy and rain began to fall. It seemed to reflect the group’s mood as they traipsed solemnly home.
“We’re never going to get enough dust for the King,” sighed Lynn. “What are we going to do?”
“We could try appealing to the old King, Dab,” suggested the citizen known simply as Mr. 420. “He’s strong.”
“But no one’s seen him in weeks,” said xander. “In the name of Lantto, we’ll be living in fear until our dying days. And that might come sooner than we think, thanks to Theunorg.”
Just then, a figure stepped out into the road, blocking the group’s path. Azurean and Lynn reached for their swords, while others scattered for the safety of nearby buildings. But when the newcomer threw their hood back, those who remained saw that this was not Theunorg. It was a woman, clad in a pointy hat and dark cloak, clutching a thick, leather-bound book in her hands.
“Hello.” The newcomer flashed a dark smile at the group. “I hear you’re having problems with a killer on the loose. What a pain.”
“Perhaps,” said Klinthios, pushing out his chest and trying to hide the tremor in his voice. The abrupt appearance of the stranger had frightened him and he was dreaming of being back in the pungent warmth of his riverside fish shop. “What’s it to you?”
“My name’s Miss Mia,” said the stranger. “I have certain…talents. And I can use them to help with your Theunorg problem if you wish.”
“What kind of talents?” asked Azurean, sceptically.
In response, Miss Mia turned to face the statue of King Taylor Ryver standing in the square nearby. She raised her hand and a ball of flame burst forward. The statue blackened and crumbled within seconds. Were it not for the pile of ash on the floor, it would be impossible to know anything had ever been there in the first place.
“I could do something like that to Theunorg if you wish,” said Miss Mia, still smiling cheerfully. “For a small donation. One hundred thousand gold coins should do it. Half now, half when the job’s done. Between you, I’m sure you can quite easily come up with an amount like that.”
The citizens glanced uneasily at each other. Then slowly, silently, each began drawing coins from their pockets. It seemed there was an unspoken agreement that this was their best option.
Miss Mia watched contentedly as the citizens piled up coins in front of her. Once they had met her fee, she waved a hand and the coins vanished. Then, the pages of her book began to flutter, as if blown by a strong wind, and the words on the parchment began to quiver and dance, twisting and colouring the air behind her. Soon, it had formed into an ocean-blue circle. A magic portal.
“No point putting it off,” said Miss Mia briskly. “When there’s a job to be done, it’s best to get on with it. I’ll be back in a few minutes with Theunorg’s head for your inspection!”
***
In the cool darkness of his hut, Theunorg looked at the three figures standing to attention. Each one was a mirror image of him, down to the last detail. But their faces were like marble, showing no expression at all.
“Go,” whispered Theunorg. “We’ll be welcoming a guest soon. We wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would we?”
Next time….Miss Mia takes on Theunorg. But will her magic be enough to take him down?
