Hero's Manual: Chapter 24
Mar. 9th, 2008 09:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sickle_storiesA/N: This chapter is rather short, but it feels finished. Also, this way I won't have a half-chapter floating around for months on end.
Chapter 24: Behind the Bushes
"Alright," said Quasi, turning his back to the bush and searching crowd beyond. "Now what?"
"Well, for starters, I say we move away from here."
Quasi glanced at his master, who was clutching a wax-covered sock. The butler shrugged – obviously they had to get away from the blood-hungry villagers – and poked his head past the branches once more. "Give it a few minutes."
A few minutes was all the head start they'd had, when Frank had wandered in and bleated them through the terrified crowd. They’d barely made around a corner when the entire village gathered behind them took up their spoons again and gave chase. Quasi had led the others down alleyways, taking corners at random, jumping over a flowerbed or two, trying to lose the flickering torchlight and yelling that hounded them. Finally they'd reached a long line of hedges and crawled under them.
Something hairy and wet nuzzled his ear. "This is all your fault, you know," he whispered. Frank butted his shoulder, hard. "Alright, alright," said Quasi, rubbing his shoulder and pushing the goat away, "the casserole may've been a bad idea too."
"It looks like they’re moving off," said Gwen, looking over the bush. She was right: the rolling mass of vengeful villagers was slowly trickling down the streets away from them, spoons held out menacingly as they searched for the foreigners who'd brought the Dark Lord of the Woods into their midst. The reason why they weren’t very quick about the chase was that the Dark Lord of the Woods was, indeed, in their midst. Nasty things can happen to one, if they're too enthusiastic about the hunt.
“They’re probably off to cleanse in the Holy Waters or Pool or somesuch,” muttered Hero.
“How far are we from – well, anyplace else?” asked Gwen.
Quasi kept his eyes on the crowd. “The closest place is our – ow! – Master's place, and you know how far that is."
Everyone was quiet after that, watching and waiting as the flickering torchlight drew away. On the few occasions when the shouts and light drew horribly close to their own particular little bush, they huddled together in the dark. At one point, after an especially loud shout from various villagers, the four heard a horrible crash as a plate was thrown to the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers until one throaty female-voice chastised them.
"Oh no," groaned Quasi. "Lucretia's plate. She's going to kill us."
"Yeah, her and the whole town, in case you’ve not noticed," said Hero.
"But Lucretia..." shuddered Quasi.
Vicky opened his mouth, possibly to defend the kind lady and her soup, but thought better of it.
"Not much of a hunting mob, these Astrophelians." Gwen dusted off her knees and pulled up her socks. Hero, sitting beside her shoulder-to-shoulder, closed his eyes, resolutely refusing to acknowledge that darkness pressed around them now that the lynch-friendly villagers and their torches were gone.
"We'll be needing transportation," said Vicky. "Clyde's stabled over at Lucretia's. I gather the two of you found that blasted carpet?"
"It's in our room," admitted Hero, "at that inn you found us at."
"Can you call it?" asked Quasi, standing up and twisting his candlestick in his hands.
"It's deaf."
"Oh dear," sighed Vicky, standing up beside his butler. Gwen and Hero followed suite, casting worried glances at the now-empty allies. Frank trotted excitedly around them keeping his eye on Quasi.
"Right," said the butler, slapping the candlestick into his palm. "Let's get out of this town."
"Alright," said Quasi, turning his back to the bush and searching crowd beyond. "Now what?"
"Well, for starters, I say we move away from here."
Quasi glanced at his master, who was clutching a wax-covered sock. The butler shrugged – obviously they had to get away from the blood-hungry villagers – and poked his head past the branches once more. "Give it a few minutes."
A few minutes was all the head start they'd had, when Frank had wandered in and bleated them through the terrified crowd. They’d barely made around a corner when the entire village gathered behind them took up their spoons again and gave chase. Quasi had led the others down alleyways, taking corners at random, jumping over a flowerbed or two, trying to lose the flickering torchlight and yelling that hounded them. Finally they'd reached a long line of hedges and crawled under them.
Something hairy and wet nuzzled his ear. "This is all your fault, you know," he whispered. Frank butted his shoulder, hard. "Alright, alright," said Quasi, rubbing his shoulder and pushing the goat away, "the casserole may've been a bad idea too."
"It looks like they’re moving off," said Gwen, looking over the bush. She was right: the rolling mass of vengeful villagers was slowly trickling down the streets away from them, spoons held out menacingly as they searched for the foreigners who'd brought the Dark Lord of the Woods into their midst. The reason why they weren’t very quick about the chase was that the Dark Lord of the Woods was, indeed, in their midst. Nasty things can happen to one, if they're too enthusiastic about the hunt.
“They’re probably off to cleanse in the Holy Waters or Pool or somesuch,” muttered Hero.
“How far are we from – well, anyplace else?” asked Gwen.
Quasi kept his eyes on the crowd. “The closest place is our – ow! – Master's place, and you know how far that is."
Everyone was quiet after that, watching and waiting as the flickering torchlight drew away. On the few occasions when the shouts and light drew horribly close to their own particular little bush, they huddled together in the dark. At one point, after an especially loud shout from various villagers, the four heard a horrible crash as a plate was thrown to the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers until one throaty female-voice chastised them.
"Oh no," groaned Quasi. "Lucretia's plate. She's going to kill us."
"Yeah, her and the whole town, in case you’ve not noticed," said Hero.
"But Lucretia..." shuddered Quasi.
Vicky opened his mouth, possibly to defend the kind lady and her soup, but thought better of it.
"Not much of a hunting mob, these Astrophelians." Gwen dusted off her knees and pulled up her socks. Hero, sitting beside her shoulder-to-shoulder, closed his eyes, resolutely refusing to acknowledge that darkness pressed around them now that the lynch-friendly villagers and their torches were gone.
"We'll be needing transportation," said Vicky. "Clyde's stabled over at Lucretia's. I gather the two of you found that blasted carpet?"
"It's in our room," admitted Hero, "at that inn you found us at."
"Can you call it?" asked Quasi, standing up and twisting his candlestick in his hands.
"It's deaf."
"Oh dear," sighed Vicky, standing up beside his butler. Gwen and Hero followed suite, casting worried glances at the now-empty allies. Frank trotted excitedly around them keeping his eye on Quasi.
"Right," said the butler, slapping the candlestick into his palm. "Let's get out of this town."
