Bob the Mage, ch. 11.

[Author's note: Fiction Friday! has returned, with another chapter of our useless bum hero, Bob the Lousy Wizard. As noted before, I wrote Bob the Mage quite a while ago -- my one and only completed fantasy-world book -- and am editing and refreshing it and posting it here. As chapter ten ended Bob had escaped from Big Evil Island with the help of Suzy (who willingly stayed behind) and his friends Astercam and Bourbon the Barbarian. Having stolen a catamaran, the three men are all at sea with no food or water, no compass, no nothing. Have they escaped the evil mage Mormor just to die at sea?

Previous chapters can be found at these links:

chapter 10, chapter 9, chapter 8, chapter 7, chapter 6,
chapter 5, chapter 4, chapter 3, chapter 2, chapter 1

And remember, if you're enjoying the book, tell someone! Post a link! Rent a billboard! If you're hating the book, write me a letter! (frederick_key at yahoo) I'll offer you a small fee to change your mind publicly! Cash money!]

Bob the Mage

by Frederick Key

Chapter 11

You may find it hard to believe, but we had a tough time on that little catamaran.

“No way!” I hear you cry. “But Bob, your life has been just a big bed of roses to this point! You can’t mean that you had trouble?”

Yes, I mean just that. Our thrill at being safely away from Big Evil Island was quickly diminished at the knowledge that we were out at sea with no food or water, no cover from the sun. At least when Suzy and I were in our little boat we had some supplies, but we three had nothing.

“Let us not despair yet,” said Astercam. “Let us collect ourselves and assess our resources.”

“And then we can despair all we want,” I said.

Our resources were better than I initially suspected. Astercam and Bourbon both had knowledge of navigation, and could guess which way Purgor, the nearest port, might be. Astercam was able to weave a length of line from my tattered and unidentifiable army robes, and Bourbon supplied a fish hook by bending some metal pin that helped keep his kilt closed. They attached this to the battle ax, and using some tied cloth as a lure we successfully trolled for mackerel and honkerfish. I sort of cooked them with my heat spell, but it really was not much less nasty than totally raw. It did manage to keep our bodies and souls together, barely—Bourbon looked at me once in a while as if wondering how I’d taste with mustard, but fortunately we did not get to that state.

Every now and then I would try to magically connect through the earth as I had done on the prairie to see where the closest group of people were, and for a time I had as little luck as when I tried it in the boat with Suzy. But we were sailing for days and I had little to do, and no one as appealing as Suzy to distract me, so whenever Astercam would doze off I would try again. I got hours of the usual nothing nothing nothing until our fourth day. Then, something.

I wasn’t sure at first. We were hungry and thirsty and I figured delusion may have been setting in. But no, as I reached out through the sea, through the water, feeling something of the teeming life below us in the depths, I caught a spark ahead of us to the north. It was not the feeling of a human colony, but it was something bright, something—magical? It wasn’t like anything Mormor-related, thank the heavens, but it was out here on the sea, and I couldn’t guess what it was.

Something good, I thought.

Bourbon was at the tiller. I woke Astercam with a whack and told them both what I’d felt. “It’s something magical, but not evil, and it must not be far away,” I said.

“On a ship?” said Astercam, groggy.

“Unless it’s on a floating rock, yeah. It’s moving. I’m losing the signal but it’s definitely that way.”

“Are you certain you are not delirious from hunger and thirst?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. You say we’re another six days from Purgor at best. You got any better ideas?”

We made the slight course correction and I was immediately full of self-doubt. I set my face as stone, though, because if I’d just done something stupid and doomed us I was not going to make it worse by waffling.

The sun set, hours passed through the night. Bourbon slept and we got no fish on the line. I could just make out that far-off spark, but where was it?

In the morning, it appeared.

It was a sort of clipper ship, fast and lean, and it flew the colors of Tegora. I wouldn’t have cared if it flew dirty socks. I didn’t care about Tegora’s manhunt for me. I just wanted food and water and room to stretch my legs.

We screamed and hollered loud enough to annoy barnacles, and finally someone ahoyed us in response. We steered toward the ship and called for the rope ladder.

“Go away!” said the sailor at the rail.

“Please! We’re starving! We are experienced sailors and willing to serve for free! Don’t leave us out here to perish!”

“You look mangy.”

“You wouldn’t look so hot if you’d been on this thing for five days either, brother.”

“Are you diseased?”

“Does this brute here look diseased? And look at this frail old man! He couldn’t be sick or he’d be dead!”

“Don’t overdo it,” said Astercam.

“We’re healthy, just hungry!”

“Wait a tick,” said the sailor, who had the sun behind him and so looked like a black blob. He turned to another blob that had just run up next to him and conferred. “All right,” he yelled, “you can come aboard, but leave any weapons on the boat.”

A rope ladder was uncoiled. Astercam got Bourbon to understand that he would have to leave his ax behind, which he did not want to do, but he wanted less to stay on the boat, so he said some kind of barbarian blessing to his weapon and tossed it in the drink. He scurried up first, followed by the old man and then me.

As soon as I got over the rail I noted there was something very peculiar about that ship, but it took me a moment to figure it out.

It was beautiful.

Everything in sight was shiny and new, from the polished brass to the fresh uniforms of the crew. It shined from the capstan to the crow’s nest. I think they’d spit-polished the anchor. It was one of the king’s flagships, fit for an admiral, and I wondered what it could be doing in these waters. It looked swift enough to outrun a serpent, mean enough to eat pirate ships as finger food, and sturdy enough to withstand the craziest storm.

And somewhere on board there was something magical that I had sensed.

Before I’d finished gawking a man appeared before us, sporting trimmed whiskers and gold braid on his tunic. “Welcome to the good ship Badass,” he said. “I am Sanford, the first mate. You are...?”

“This is the famed scholar Astercam,” I said, “and his friend, Bourbon the Barbarian. And I am known as, er, Bill. I’m a, um, an aqueduct repairman.”

“We had not expected to find such illustrious travelers,” said Sanford, “but we can provide you with quarters as you recover from your journey. How came you to be adrift?”

“That is a story best told over a hearty meal and a huge keg of rum,” I said.

“Certainly,” said Sanford, and passed along our request to a sailor nearby. We were escorted below, where the ship’s doctor, a sawbones dwarf called Gyurk, examined us and pronounced us passably alive. We were then led to chambers with basins and soap to clean up, our clothing replaced by some new robes, given a small ration of food and drink, and allowed to sleep for a time.

I felt like I had landed on some floating paradise. I could not help but notice, however, that the three of us had been separated after the doctor saw us and kept that way. I would have liked Astercam and me to get our stories straight. I got to wondering what this ship was for—it was well-appointed but full of guns, but it didn’t look like the pirate-hunting ship Suzy and I had escaped. If it was a warship, perhaps I could convince the captain that it was his duty to use those guns against Big Evil Island, to slay the wizard and rescue the princess and steal all Mormor’s gold. I dozed off considering ways to pitch the idea.

I was awakened in the evening to join the first mate for dinner. There was a looking glass, so I quickly trimmed my beard and hair and practiced an easy smile. For a skinny street mage suffering from exposure, I cleaned up pretty well. I met Astercam and Bourbon, also cleaned and pressed, on deck, and we were led to the officers’ mess.

Sanford was there, with two other gold-braided specimens. One was a jolly mate, short and round, the other tall and stern. “The captain regrets that he cannot join us, as he is occupied,” said Sanford, “but he hopes to meet you all soon. Please be seated, and tell us your tale.”

We actually had fresh meat and vegetables on our plates, and decent ale, and other luxury items, and I forced myself to not remember what happened at the last feast I attended and just dig in. Astercam seemed unusually silent, wobbling his eyebrows at me, so I took the hint and started telling our story, which had some elements of truth. I said that I had gone to Purgor to help with their water supply issues and was pressed into service on a pirate ship that was destroyed by a storm. I used hand gestures and wind noises to really sell the story. I said that I washed up on Big Evil Island where I was imprisoned with Astercam, who had tried to revolt against Mormor and got thrown in the dungeon. Astercam, relieved that I had spun his story in a favorable way, nodded and bemoaned the fate of the academic hired from innocent study on false pretenses by evil wizards. I then explained how Bourbon (who spent the story stuffing his face) and a captive princess named Suzette helped us escape, but she stayed behind to help us, which brought a genuine tear to my eye. I told them about the horrors Mormor inflicted on his captives, and the jolly officer wept; I told them of Mormor’s plan to substitute the world’s rulers with doppelgangers, and the stern officer grew sterner. Then I said that the three of us were desperate to return at strength, kill the wizard Mormor, who by the way had a huge hoard of gold and magic artifacts, and save Suzette. I can be quite eloquent on a full stomach.

“Surely the most horrifying tale I have ever heard!” said Wiggen, the jolly one.

“Aye,” said Wrax, the stern one. “And I have heard of this evil mage Mormor. He has many names, but the one you employ is most common, Bill. Many a soul has perished with the name Morwor Mordrun Mormor on his lips.”

“Our ship is on a mission for King Maximo (may he reign in magnificent health),” said Sanford, “but surely this quest seems worthy of action. I must speak with the captain, and I am certain he will want to confer with you.” The three officers rose as one. “Forgive us, but our duties call. Help yourself to whatever food and drink you like.”

He didn’t have to tell us twice. Bourbon probably accounted for a keg and a pig all by himself. Astercam was smiling drunk now, telling Bourbon about the songs of his native land and how they favored six-eighths time. I feared he was going to start singing. I looked at the brandy bottle on the sideboard but stayed away from it, as I knew I would have to talk to the captain soon, and would have to sell him on this quest. It would have been easy to relax, feel really safe for the first time in my life, but I couldn’t. Not while Suzy was on that island.

An hour or so passed. They rang bells to change the watch. Astercam did start singing but passed out before too long. A couple of sailors helped him to his quarters. Bourbon looked the sailors over, tucked a keg under one arm and a flower in his teeth, and followed. I hoped he wouldn’t get us in trouble, but I was powerless to stop him. I tottered back to the chamber where I’d napped, hoping it was still open for use.

The bed had been turned down and a little candy left on the pillow. What a great ship it was. I ate the candy and lay on the bed fully dressed, enjoying the feeling of being indoors and dry and full. I wished Suzy were with me, and I wondered if the Badass had enough firepower to make that happen.

Just as I was dozing off, there came a knock.

“Who is it?” I murmured.

“’Tis the captain. May I speak with ye?”

“Just a moment.” I had to get eloquent again. I leaped up, splashed water on my face, shook my head to clear it, and said “Come in…”

And just then it hit me that the captain’s voice had sounded mighty familiar.

“Hello, Swabbo Bob McBilgey,” said Captain Bugsby, strolling into the cabin. He was dressed as a captain of the king now, neatly trimmed and laundered and just ducky, but he still had the bulbous nose and hungry eyes of a pirate. “Surprised, spellboy?”

“Ack,” I said eloquently.

“Now, now, Swabbo, don’t get yer masts bent. Just sit on yon bed. There’s questions ye have that deserve answers.”

I sat down heavily.

“I suppose ye figured we was all killed by that serpent, or the storm that followed,” he said, “but some of us survived. The ship was in a sorry state, her captain dead, and the remaining king’s men in a panic. Having the captain’s signed pardon in hand, and realizing I had only to gain, I took command and got them boys to work. We limped back to Tegora within the week. There I told the tale of the fearsome wizard Bob, who summoned a serpent to annihilate us and escaped in the furor, and they upped the bounty on ye. I know, I know, ye had nothing to do with that monster, but that put me in a fine position, y’see. I said with a fast clipper I would find that scoundrel Bob, and bring him back to justice, and give the glory for me service to the throne and take that wee reward. Nice package, eh? So they rigged me out with this fine ship and these sharp sailors, a couple you’d know from me old crew if I hadn’t hid ’em below, and we’ve been searching for ye. I knew our paths would cross again.

“As ye might imagine, we rescued ye from that little boat because I heard your treacherous voice whinin’ and shoutin’, and I thought that the sea spirits had smiled on me for true. So we lulled you into a sense of security to see what lies ye’d tell, and now we gotcha. But it might interest ye to know that I’m not the only official of His Majesty to be sent on this quest. Come in, Karkill!”

The door opened again, and in came my old drill master, Karkill, looking nasty as ever. His wand/crop bristled with energy; I assumed he’d charged it with some malevolent spell that he couldn’t wait to fire off. “You bastard,” he said by way of greeting. He, too, was dressed in a new uniform, but it didn’t make him look much better. “After word got to the king that you were trained by me, he declared the Mage Corps a breeding ground of treachery and disbanded us. I was working as a file clerk until this quest came up!” He laughed, then, the kind of laugh that sounds more like the growl of wolf than anything to do with mirth. “I called in favors and got permission to come along. Once they see I helped bring in the evil mage Bob, they’ll see you were just one bad apple and reinstate the corps, and me with it.”

“You got me wrong, gents,” I said. “I’m Bill the good twin brother of Bob, and— Oh, the hell with it. Karkill, you’ll never get this one to fly. How can you explain that the crummy mage who had the Gallstone stolen from him by that dumbass Lefro has the power to summon monsters? They can hang me as a deserter or as an evil master sorcerer, but not both.”

“Never mind about that now,” said Bugsby. “You’re missing out on the best part. Please give a hearty welcome to the last member of our party, that staunch, unyielding, gallant solder, that paragon of patriotism, that grunt of greatness, that poor unfortunate you left to die in the labyrinth… the one and only…”

“Oh. No. Way.”

“Chokolost!”

I moaned.

Chokolost, looking unusually alive, strode into the cabin wearing a full dress uniform with a razor-keen sword at his belt.

“The gods are kind indeed,” he said, and smiled.

🚣

[Out of the frying pan, into... another frying pan? What will Bob do now? Roll over and die? Maybe! Tune in next Friday for chapter 12!]