Tired Of Death

Frumble watched as the newcomer stepped forward. He turned out to be a tall man dressed in a flowing purple robe. Long black hair was tied back in a ponytail which highlighted his sharply defined features and unhealthy looking full red lips. His eyes though, his eyes were dark and lifeless.

"My name," the man said, "is Harvey. Harvey Von McVon, at your service." He bowed slightly.

"Indeed," said Veronica, his hand still resting on his sword. "And what do you want exactly?"

Harvey smiled. I have recently managed to extricate myself from a gloomy underground prison, at no small cost I may add, and now wish to locate a certain 'Dreth' who, I understand, you are also seeking."

The Anti-Paladin frowned. "Dreth is mine. Stand in my way at your peril wizard."

"Oh, no," McVon waved a hand. "You misunderstand me. Dreth is travelling in the company of a human female. It is her I want. As your goal and mine converge though, I though we could combine our forces, to our mutual advantage. What say you?"

"I can find Dreth on my own," said Veronica.

"I have no doubt, but he won't be easy to take, even with your blade. I can help, and I have recently come into possession of some information that may interest you."

The Anti-Paladin glanced back at Frumble and Tybalt, then back again to Harvey.

"Walk with me wizard, I'll hear what you have to say at least."

"Excellent," said Harvey.

Veronica nodded his head at Frumble and Tybalt. "That way you two, and no funny stuff."

"Wouldn't dream of it," muttered Frumble.

They started off down the alley again, Harvey speaking in low tones to Veronica as they went.

~ * ~

"We're a performing troupe," said Dreth to the guard, who was looking sceptical

"Oh, for the King's masked birthday ball you mean?" The sentry's face lit up with understanding.

"Er, yes, yes," said Dreth, seizing on this opportunity. "Happy birthday to his Highness. Huzzah."

"What do you have here Bert?" another guard, an officer by the looks of him, walked up to them.

"Another bunch of performers for the party sir," said Bert.

The captain gave Dreth a hard look. "What's your name fellow?" he asked.

"Houston the Happy," said Dreth, failing to live up to the moniker.

The captain looked him up and down doubtfully.

"What do you think sir?" asked the guard. "Looks a bit like this Dreth person we've been told to look out for."

"True, he's tall and thin with black eyes, but the yellow and blue robes don't match the description, and there are plenty of people who are tall and thin. Remember what happened last time? The attention's in the detail corporal, remember that." He waved an admonishing finger at the soldier.

"Yes sir."

"Did you check in the back yet?"

"No sir."

"Go and have a look then, we don't want to hinder them if they're telling the truth."

The other sentry nodded and trotted around the back, and Dreth heard him climb inside. The captain looked him over again, and then turned to the next person in line, which was Emerald, posing as a traveller

"Hello sir," Emerald smiled charmingly, preening.

"Miss," replied the captain, straightening up and subconsciously smoothing down his hair.

Dreth shifted his attention back to the rear of his wagon, where he could hear the guard speaking to Cuthbert and Percy.

"Bloody hell!" he was saying.

"Oh don't worry sir," he heard Cuthbert reply. "We're in costume. Our troupe is doing a play about how Harold defeats a load of zombies one handedly."

"Even though zombies are totally hard a.s.s," added Percy.

Dreth looked up at the sky and gritted his teeth.

"But not as hard a.s.s as the king of course," Cuthbert amended hastily.

"They're bloody good outfits," said the guard. "Though the smell is overdoing it a bit."

"What smell?" Percy again.

"What a smell it is, is what my fellow Thespian means ha ha," Dreth heard Cuthbert correct. "It took some getting used to, let me tell you."

"Okay. Just take off your masks for a moment then, and you can be on your way," the guard replied.

"Come now officer, these masks took hours to put on, you wouldn't ask us to remove them and undo all that work would you?" Cuthbert said.

"Sorry, but I have my orders. Come on, let me help you…"

Dreth heard some movement, and an exclamation. "Hey! These aren't…"

There was a short noise, followed by a thump of dead sentry hitting the floor. Cuthbert's voice whispered out to Dreth. "Er, Houston, we have a problem…"

"I know," hissed Dreth back, climbing back onto the wagon and taking up the reins.

"Hey! Where are you going?" asked the captain, spotting his actions.

"Bert said we're all clear sir," said Dreth, saluting.

"Where is he then?" The captain looked around.

"Said something about going to the latrine." Dreth shrugged.

"Well, I don't know…"

"Oh captain sir," Emerald came to the rescue, rubbing herself up against the guard. She whispered something in his ear.

The captain looked at her, and then frowned and looked back at Dreth. Another nudge from Emerald though, and he waved them on, signalling the gate to let them through.

Dreth nodded at Emerald, and then spurred the horses on, through the gate and into the city.

"Yes!! We're cool as c.u.mberers," said Percy, sticking his head up through a gap.

"Cuc.u.mbers," corrected Dreth absently, trying to navigate the streets without running anyone over. "And get your head back down before someone sees you. We're pushing our luck as it is."

"Here, try a piece of guard," came Cuthbert's voice.

Percy ducked back down as Dreth drove the wagon towards the palace, which loomed up at the end of the main street he'd managed to find somehow. It wasn't easy. It seemed the whole population was preparing for a major party. The street was crowded with drunken revellers who had started the celebrations early, and stalls selling a variety of tacky merchandise.

"Happy Kings' Day!" one man said, before falling over into a drunken slumber. Two street urchins ran up and started rifling through his pockets.

Dreth shook his head. "What is the world coming to?" he asked himself. "Letting kids rob the drunk like that, totally unprofessional. They should go for the pouch first."

"Are we there yet?" complained Percy a little later. "I think I've eaten too much sentry."

Dreth narrowly missed a woman carrying a basket of apples. "You should be thankful you've any human at all, there are undead in the dungeon who haven't eaten in centuries. Think of them."

"I want to look outside," said Cuthbert

"Don't make me come back there," warned Dreth. "Sit still and be patient." He shook his head and tried to concentrate on where he was going, ignoring the mumbling from behind.

He continued driving towards the palace, which seemed to be the centre of attention. As they approached he leaned back and spoke again. "We're nearly here. Did you get Spit out of the box?"

"m here uncle," came the reply.

"Alright then, I'll drive round the back and we do as planned. Remember the plan?"

"We find the dungeons," said Cuthbert, "and see if Frumble's there."

"Good," said Dreth, turning into a small avenue that seemed to lead round the back of the palace, following a crowd of other service carriages that were heading that way. Eventually he pulled the wagon up near a grassy area, as the road had become jammed with stationary traffic.

"We'll wait for Emerald here. Stay inside, I'm going to scout around." He climbed down and looking left and right, finally deciding to walk a little further back, to see if he'd missed any other way in.

The road they were on was fairly wide, yet with all the traffic it was full. He walked along parallel to a public park, flowers and trees in full leaf. On the other side loomed the solid wall of the palace, the many windows looking down upon him, though he saw no doors nearby.

Strolling along he reached the end of the road, where it met the main street. Deciding he'd better get back to the wagon, he turned about and started walking back the way he'd come, only to stop abruptly as a troop of militia crossed over from the other side of the street and assembled in front of him, thankfully facing the other way. He dodged behind a nearby tree and listened as a sergeant addressed the men.

"Listen up then! We suspect the wanted undead are in a theatrical carriage, painted yellow and blue. If they're in the city, they'll be coming this way, so the captain says. So we search every wagon on this street, no exceptions. Understand?"

"Yes sir!" the men said in unison.

Dreth gritted his teeth and felt for his sword, only to stop as he remembered he'd left it with Percy and Cuthbert.