Bob the Mage, ch. 12.

[Author's note: It is Fiction Friday! again, Taco Tuesday's kid brother, with it brings chapter 12 of our fantasy novel, Bob the Mage. As noted before, I wrote Bob in my ill-spent youth ago -- my one and only completed fantasy-world book -- and am editing and refreshing it and posting it here. As chapter 11 ended, incompetent magic user Bob and his friends Astercam and Bourbon the Barbarian had been picked up by a Tegoran ship, having survived days at sea after escaping Big Evil Island. Bob is wanted in Tegora, but boarding the Tegoran ship was a matter of survival -- which turned into a cruel joke, as the ship is commanded by his nemesis Bugsby the (possibly reformed) pirate, along with former Tegoran army enemies Karkill and Chokolost. Will they kill Bob immediately or have a mock trial and then kill him?

Previous chapters can be found at these links: chapter 11,

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! Tweet about it on Twitter! Tweet about it to the neighborhood sparrows! If you're hating the book, write me a letter! (frederick_key at yahoo) I'll dedicate the book to you to get you to like it! Maybe!]

Bob the Mage

by Frederick Key

Chapter 12 

I suppose you’re thinking that after Mormor’s chamber of horrors that there wasn’t much these pikers could do to scare me. You’d be perfectly wrong. They were no Mormor, it’s true, but these three lunatics were perfectly capable of scaring a skinny, helpless mage.

Karkill was ready to zap me on the spot, and Chokolost was stretching his throttling grip, and Bugsby dropped words like “keelhaul” and “sharks” and “plank,” but they all muttered that they had to do things by the book, per the rules of the Tegoran navy. Plus, they wanted that reward, and it would be easiest to get if the wicked Bob were executed after a fair and well-transcribed trial.

Okay, then I’ll live until to get to the mainland, I thought.

“Fortunately,” said Bugsby, “a trial can be legally held aboard ship, with the crew serving as jury. So we try him, hang him, pickle what’s left of him, and go get the booty! I mean, reward.”

As I learned, regulations stated that the trial had to be held in daylight, I guess as a means of discouraging impromptu nighttime mob justice or mutiny. I was clapped in irons and dragged to the brig. A sleepless night awaited me. I lay there, the dark wood of the cell like a coffin, my meager magic clamped off by all that iron, listening to the gentle creak of the ship. The pirate-slayer I’d been imprisoned in creaked like an old man. The Seaworthy had creaked like any second it would shatter into toothpicks.

I had no ideas for escape. I was about ready to give up on what I laughingly called my existence, and probably would have except that A) these guys were being total jerks and shouldn’t get their way, and B) Suzy was still stuck in that big stupid evil skull castle and needed me.

Two sailors arrived with the dawn to haul me out. They spoke not a word but pulled me along to the deck, where a red sunrise awaited, and they chained me to the foremast where everyone could get a good look at me. I said nothing, just tried to think, but my brain it that state was as good at thinking as your average pumice stone. The sailors going about deck duties stared. I recognized a couple of ex-pirates, but any hope that they might show some kindness to an old shipmate was lost.

Even Kevin snarled at me when I said I was glad he’d survived, and was that a new leg? Chic. I’d hoped to ask him if they’d found out that the Tegoran pirate-hunter had not really been magically alerted to the Seaworthy by me, as Bugsby had claimed when we were captured, but neither Kevin nor anyone else would talk to me. I had more friends in Mormor’s dungeon than on this deck.

The sun was burning quite nicely as the men were called to trial. I soon looked down on forty assorted seamen. The sea was shining, little white caps waving at me, bye-bye. Astercam and Bourbon were dragged on deck, but they were chained as well, and muzzled. The crew must have waited for the giant barbarian to pass out or he’d have cracked a bunch of heads. I supposed he and Astercam were under arrest for abetting an enemy of the king or something. I wondered if I’d be alive long enough to find out.

“Mateys,” said Bugsby, his good eye piercing the sailors to their hearts, “you see before ye the most contemptible cur on the seven seas. No, not me, him! Bob, the most evil seadog a man could meet. I can barely list his crimes here. But I will. He used wicked magicks against a ship of Tegora. He betrayed, treasoned, and said nasty things about King Maximo of Tegora (may his pet wombats sing his glory or somethin’). He has fought as a pirate against ye, and is unrepentant. And worst of all, he has failed to follow orders!”

The sailors gasped.

“Arr, mateys! Furthermore, we have reason to believe he kidnapped a princess, and summoned a horrible two-headed sea monster! I call for the death of this wicked wizard Bob, in a quick but painful manner, as befits a horrid, mangy, dirty, nasty, unclean, despicable vermin, who would throw his own sweet mother down a flight of stairs for the fun of hearin’ her thump at the bottom. What d’ye say?”

They cried yea (or arr) and waved their grog.

Bugsby sat, and Karkill stood before the group.

“Men, warriors of the king,” he said, “I come before you today not as a loyal servant of the crown, nor as a fellow veteran, but in my capacity as a user of magic.” He pulled a bouquet of roses from a sleeve as a demonstration, and tossed it to the crowd to a smattering of applause. “It is not generally known, but we in the craft have a long tradition of unsworn but unshakeable loyalty between master and apprentice.”

News to me. Simon the Unsteady would have fallen over laughing at that.

“This mage chained up here has broken that sacred trust. He used the knowledge I gave him and turned against me and the king. There’s only one punishment fitting for such a maggot, and you know what it is!”

“DEATH!” came the response.

Karkill shot out some confetti, took a bow, and left the stage for Chokolost.

Chokolost was looking splendid that day, groomed and polished, exuding an aura of strength the way an old fish exudes stink. He cast an iron eye on all present, fixing it on me at last. There it lingered for some time. I gave a personable grin. It didn’t help. He turned to the crowd and spoke.

“My fellow servants of the crown,” he said, “our esteemed captain and the mage warrior Karkill have ample reason to detest this villain strapped to the mast, for all he has done and is believed to have done, but it is my duty to relate to you the details of his verified and proven treason against the crown.”

The jackass must have been taking eloquence pills or something, I thought.

“He and I were sent on a confidential mission for his majesty, King Maximo the Seventh (may he stub not a toe). We and other soldiers and mages were sent to find the ancient magical artifact known as the Gallstone of the Gods. We journeyed through perilous lands, reaching at last the labyrinth where the stone had come to rest. When ordered to open a magically sealed door, our treacherous wizards tried to stall, clearly terrified. It was fear of the monsters within the labyrinth, I thought then. Now I think it was fear of our sovereign getting hold of the Gallstone of the Gods.

“When their dithering became dangerous, with our entire party exposed on a mountainside, I used the means at my disposal to motivate them. Sure enough, this Bob proved totally capable of opening the door, but first he cast a spell of confusion on my men, and my mule, causing them all to fall off the mountain and perish. Only he and I were left then, and it took all my strength and cunning to keep him from deserting.

“We wandered the labyrinth for hours, or days, and it may be that he was purposely keeping us lost. But my flawless sense of direction led us to the Gallstone, which was guarded by a hideous and ferocious monster! I made ready to take it on in single combat, when this mage winked out his magic light and plunged us into darkness! As I cried out for help all I heard was his footsteps running away. And later I would find out he was running away with the stone!

“I battled the monster fiercely, and in end it tripp—that is, I struck it a critical blow to its tiny brain with my sword. Wounded and alone, I wandered again for days until I found a way out.

“I eventually returned to Tegora, where I was forced to admit defeat to my superiors. Then I was given some shocking news. Lefro, one of the useless mages from our quest, had returned to the city with the Gallstone, expecting a reward! We arrested him for desertion and persuaded him to explain how he had gotten the artifact. He confessed that Bob had given him the stone and sent him into town with it to get the reward, which they would split. Perhaps they planned to meet in Purgor, for that was where Bob was found hiding.

“Our attempt to capture Bob there was thwarted by his magic arts, and he sought to escape on a pirate ship. We have had many weeks of searching since, but now at last we have the blackguard. Those of you who sailed with Captain Bugsby previously know some of his crimes on the seas, but I can tell you this—Bob is a thief, a liar, a deserter, a coward, and a self-serving practitioner of the dark arts, and the sooner he is dead the better the world shall be!”

What a speech. I was about ready to call for my own death. At least I knew now how Lefro had come to be in the Purgor police station, blaming me for everything under the sun. I hoped that the rotten little stinker was cooling his heels in some dinky cell back in Tegora.

Bugsby once again stood before the assembly. “Now, as ye know, the law requires that anyone who wants to speak for the defendant may open his gob now. Anyone?”

“Mmm! Mmmm!” said Astercam, rattling his chains and struggling against his muzzle.

“Anyone? Anyone at all? Well, then, mateys…”

“MMMM!”

“…I say that it be time we put it to a vote…”

“MMMMMMM!”

“…as the law of the sea under yon Tegoran flag requires. All in favor of death for this scoundrel, say ARR!”

“Just a moment, Captain Bugsby.” It was the first mate, Sanford. “The old man wants to say a word.”

“He probably has an itch or something. Now, as I was saying, all in favor…”

“No, sir, it definitely looks like he has something to say. And the law states that anyone, even another prisoner, may speak for the defendant.”

“Arr!” Bugsby stamped around for a few seconds in frustration, emitting almost visible fumes. Then he said, “Oh, all right. Unchain the old fart.”

So Astercam, or as I’d come to think of him, Good Ol’ Astercam, was set free and given the floor.

“Thank you,” said Astercam, “and a lovely deck it is, too. Is this Gomblian teak? Looks rather like it with the dark striations—”

“GET ON WITH IT!”

“Men of Tegora!” said Astercam. “I do not come here to praise the virtue of my friend Bob, nor to excuse him for his crimes. In a somewhat twisted manner, for example, the tale told by Chokolost is true. Bob told me all about their unhappy quest. Why not? We were stranded on an island and he had no reason to lie. But he also told me how the villainous Lefro stole the Gallstone from him, throwing Bob from a cliff and making off with the artifact, along with Bob’s food stores, leaving him to perish in the wilderness. Bob left Chokolost in the labyrinth, yes, but he had every reason to believe that the man was dead already.

“Consider this, too: Chokolost accuses Lefro and Bob of fearing to let Maximo the Seventh (may he, uh, something or other) get hold of the Gallstone. Then why would they conspire to turn it in for a reward? Please, sergeant, do not contradict yourself so.

“No, Lefro, Bob, and the third mage on the expedition were not afraid of the king’s power. They were foolish and ill-trained (yes, Karkill, I said ill-trained!) and were forced to try something beyond their powers. Their punishment for failure was to be hurled off a mountain, which killed one mage and almost killed Lefro. Bob’s time in the service of the military of Tegora was a tale of mismanagement and poor personnel decisions, that is a fact, and as bright as your buttons and your ship are, I’m sure you all have had some experience with this. C’mon, am I right?

“How would any of you like to be executed on the spot for failing to tie a triple half-hitch? Or for missing a stain with your mop? I think we need to understand the conditions our friend Bob, a nearly powerless mage, was under and realize that for him, his actions were not treason nor meant to be, but merely the desperate actions needed for survival.

“I tell you, this trial is a mockery! This man is no evildoer, no summoner of monsters and bad weather! Believe me, we were in dire straits and I would know if he had any powerful magic. He is simply a poor man pressed into awful servitude, trying to cling to life. If he is guilty of anything, then I say, his accusers are guiltier still for having driven him to it!”

Sailors were nodding and rubbing their chins. Great speech! I thought. Gods shower blessings on Astercam!

“And now,” he said, “allow me to explain a little more in depth. We must consider the questions of jurisdiction and relevant codes. You see, there is no one ‘law of the sea,’ as many sailors tend to be believe, but rather a long history of maritime development of such laws. Probably the first was propagated by the Emperor Zaschnuch, some three thousand years ago, when the Risnigans rules the eastern part of the Joma lakes system. The large bureaucratic apparatus beneath the emperor was not inclined to meddle in the affairs of the wealth-bringing traders of the lakes, but such lawlessness as pervaded the lakes system had begun to threaten colonies and trading partners. With the rising popularity of the koonie bark as a flavoring, the Risnigans…”

And that was all she wrote. After fifteen minutes of the history of maritime law, the Risnigan empire, the koonie bark trade, the Elfin tribes’ ocean explorations, Zaschnuch’s family intrigues, the Kraken Question, and the spread of legalese on the wave, the sailors were calling for Astercam’s death. He had done the worst thing he could at a trial like this: He sucked the entertainment value right out of it. They chained him up again and put three muzzles on him, on the theory that you can’t be too careful.

As for me, Astercam’s brilliant defense had been annihilated by his academic pontification. I don’t think a single sailor even remembered the defense part. All they knew was they had bad feelings now, and those feelings were connected to the weenie on the mast, and if it weren’t for him they might be doing something fun, like sleeping or playing with their ditty bags.

Bugsby spat on Astercam and took his place again before the crowd. “Anything to say before the final vote?” he asked me.

“I’m innocent?” I croaked.

“Anything relevant to say?”

“For the sake of love,” I said, tired, “have mercy.”

So much chin music to this crowd. They roared for blood. Specifically, the stuff I was full of.

🐙🔱

[Well, looks like this is definitely the end for Bob, doesn't it? Come back next week to find out if he's hanged, stabbed, shot, strangled... or if these sailors really get mad!]