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Wang hit his grandfather on the head for the fiftieth time that day, the old b****** just wouldn’t stay down. Wang had decided he would need to get yet another coal shovel. His current shovel was now roughly the shape of the top of his grandfather’s head.
Wang let out a sigh of disbelief as the giant figure of a fluorescent green dodo filled the doorway of his small shack. He blinked: it disappeared. Like the rest of his family Wang had been exposed to the psychotropic drugs their bodies regularly produced whilst digesting his mother's half-baked schemes. The Planet they were currently on prevented his mother from killing his father by turning all her schemes into edible material which they called Bob. His mother had always wanted to kill his father and the arranged marriage was made so that this could be done legally. Unknown to either’s parents Wang’s dad had acquired a small cage, far to small to fit his wife in but just big enough for her head. Wang’s dad had then produced the cage upon meeting his spouse to be and quickly placed it upon her head, welding it to her earrings with some spare twigs. Wang’s mother then promptly head-butted his father to death.
By a secret process, consisting of a lot of shuffling about in a dark hut by the local Shaman, Wang’s mother was impregnated by the ghost of Wang’s father. Wang’s mother was then shot into space via a great cannon and thus banished from the local economy. She landed on the current planet where Wang now sat. Being slightly crazy, Wang’s mother decided that Wang’s father was still alive and on this planet, this produced the schemes, which produced the food, which allowed her to survive to carry on scheming. By a twist of fate Wang’s father’s ghost had also been fired off into space and landed on the exact same planet on which Wang now sat. The planet’s effects returned Wang’s father to life in the shape of an odd blue creature with a plumed tail and fish like eyes. There seemed to be a daily chase where his mother randomly picked up a kitchen implement and began beating the ground at untimely intervals. Wang’s father would come into the shack from time to time and would babble in some incoherent language translated through effluent and phlegm. Thus Wang’s shack smelt like something quite indescribable.
Wang couldn’t bare to throw any of his fathers letters (which he assumed were addressed to him) away, he would collect those that he found whilst out hiking. His father would leave a quick squiggle here and there, just to let Wang know that he was doing fine and that his mother’s random attacks on the planet’s surface were still as pointless as ever (in short they were evidence that he was still alive and that was all that Wang understood from them).
Wang was still confused about where he had come from, he was bored with simple existence and had set about making a cannon, with which to fire himself into space with. He had decided to build the cannon within the crater his mother had made when she had landed. This, he reasoned, would be roughly the place he should fire from if he ever wanted to get to his home planet. His grandfather had helped him build some of the cannon but the psychotropic drugs became enhanced within his metabolism and over time he began to think that Wang was a herd of giraffes which was hell bent on beating him to death with a coal shovel.
Wang decided to pre-empt the next attack from his grandfather by using his cleverly thought out plan of ‘clocking the old b****** when he wasn’t looking’. This had worked the previous nine thousand and eighty seven times he had decided to use it. Too late! The old git was shifting from side to side already, Wang was surprised to see that his grandfather had taken on the shape of a black and white hippo concertinaed within a concertina. This baffled Wang enough for Wang’s grandfather to utter in a squeaky, croaky voice ‘giraffes’ and ‘jubblies’ before crouching down (as much as a hippo could) and launching himself at Wang. Wang swung his shovel at the black and white mass, there was a loud metallic clang and the satisfying sound of an unconscious hippo landing in dough. Wang hadn’t noticed that pile of dough before and decided it was down to a shift in his perceptions. Yes he could see clearly now the green roof of his shack was covered in soft yellow dough. He tasted some, it was a new sensation for his tastebuds. His mother must have come up with another original scheme to catch his father with something that resulted in death, actually it was much more likely that she had made a new kitchen implement and begun beating the ground with it again. Perhaps she had hit an old patch of Bob with a new implement and that had created a new branch of Bob.
Bob was great. Wang really liked Bob. He and Bob would chat for hours about where Bob had come from and where he was going and likewise about Wang’s past and future. It appeared that Bob was a computer sent to aid his mother, ‘when she landed wherever she landed’, however the planets strange properties had changed Bob into hidden particles. These multiplied within the planet’s atmosphere and were released in certain forms depending on what type of malicious scheme his mother came up with. Bob couldn’t answer everything but he did know more than Wang and that was good enough for Wang.
Bob couldn’t tell Wang what Wang’s name was even though Wang kept on reminding him that his name was Wang. Bob would call him the ‘super ego’ for some reason. Wang didn’t really like this name much but he kept it too himself so as not to confuse Bob. Bob couldn’t tell Wang what his father’s names were but he could tell him that his father had many aliases and that his mother had one name which could never be spoken, written or in any other way communicated. Bob did say that he knew what her name was and suspected this was part of why he had become corrupted beyond the galactic gym. Wang didn’t know what the galactic gym was and neither did Bob, it was just a sentence which Bob knew but couldn’t explain. Bob was also edible as he was formed in that way by the molecules hidden in the atmosphere. Wang would happily chat to and eat Bob at the same time, Wang didn’t feel guilty for this but his grandfather did. Bob was describing the ceiling to himself as he viewed it with a critical red eye. The eye was suspended on a green stalk, which dangled the eye near to the base of the stalk, by a blue piece of string.
‘It’s very green isn’t it?’ Said Bob from some unseen orifice.
‘No’ Said Wang eagerly snapping the green stalk and devouring the eye and blue string in one.
‘Hey, I can see my house from here!’ said Bob. The rooted end of the green stalk thrashed about in the atmosphere then suddenly broke away from it’s doughy base and flew up the left nostril of the hippo. The hippo unconsciously dozed, murmuring ‘jubblies’ and ‘igglephants’ to itself.
“How’re my insides looking today?”
“Yech” came the reply, Bob didn’t know much about how people or machines worked he just knew that they did and that was good enough for Wang. If Bob didn’t know then Wang usually forgot about the question after a while.
‘Nice shovel. Where’d you get it? The get ahead shop?’
Wang groaned and ate a doughy piece of Bob.
“Geddit? The get a-head- shop?” said Bob pleased at his own joke. Wang rolled his eyes and broke off another piece of Bob.
“Bob, why don’t you mind us eating parts of you?” This question was one that didn’t disappear after a while.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” Said Bob trying to make another joke.
“I don’t know.” Sighed Bob waiting for another bad punchline.
“Exactly.” Said Bob.
“What?”
“I don’t know. It seems to be what I do and that’s what I’m supposed to do”. Another eye complete with string and stalk erupted from some dough on the ceiling.
“Oh” Wang pretended to understand but he actually wasn’t any the wiser. He grabbed some of yellow doughy Bob and threw it at the stalk and string part of Bob on the ceiling. The stalk withdrew before the piece of yellow Bob could hit it.
“Hah! You missed!” Yelled Bob.
Wang scooped up two large handfuls of yellow Bob dough and began to pelt the stalk and
string with it
“Woah!” Said Bob getting pelted by himself.
“Why can’t you do more than what you do?” Wang said, momentarily stopping the onslaught before resuming his target practice.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Said Bob whilst dodging atmosphere-borne pieces of himself with his stalk and string.
“How old am I?” Wang continued throwing some Bob; he was beginning to tire both physically and in enthusiasm, of lobbing pieces of his friend.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice took on a tinny sound but was still friendly. “Hey I can see some really horrible things up that hippo’s nose you know!”
Wang ignored the attempt to sidetrack him “Am I going to die?” He stopped throwing and waited for the answer.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice was still tinny but the friendly lilt was fading and being replaced by a rasping threatening tone. “Bob command 240. Super ego you have not been told about death”. The voice now sounded like it came from down a long series of metallic vents.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Wang mimicked back trying to sound like the friendly Bob and not this dangerous new Bob. Wang wanted to talk to old Bob. Wang waited. Nothing happened for a long time. Then the stalks and strings recoiled in spirals and the yellow doughy Bob was all that was left behind.
“Sorry Bob. I, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Feeling deflated, and clutching his shovel tightly to his chest, Wang curled up next to his hippo grandfather and sadly descended into sleep.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed out of the fluorescent green dodo’s nose. Wang knew he was dreaming but he didn’t want to wake up. He was steering his dream by some-sort of music and it was taking him to strange places. Upon a triple clef sat this fluorescent green dodo which was acting as conductor. Wang realised he was standing on some yellow dough and willed himself to take off into the atmosphere of his dream. He decided he would steal the baton from the green dodo.
He looked around for a good vantage point from which to launch himself at the green bird. His doughy footing was in-fact an island in the middle of an azure sea. The waves seemed to ripple with the movement of the tinkling strands of music, which seemed to emanate from the tip of the bird’s baton. There were no other islands, doughy or otherwise, within the sea.
The music took on physical form as it played from the baton creating a road of concrete notes for the dodo to walk upon. The dodo stood on its triple clef, a road of notes winding away into the distance. It fixed its gaze upon Wang. ‘Unknown’, once again Bob’s voice echoed out of the bird’s nose. Wang’s little island began to sink into the azure sea with alarming rapidity, Wang concentrated hard on getting himself to fly. He began to float upwards. His island disappeared but he was already aloft. Concentrating he flew towards the dodo which began to aim it’s baton towards him. Suddenly there was a thunderous explosion and something very large broke through the water, into the atmosphere and bared down on the dodo from the great height it had obtained, casting a shadow over Wang and the dodo. Sensing the impending danger Wang rushed at the dodo and tried to grab the baton. He missed by inches, his momentum carrying him out of the radius of the great shadow. The large grey shape which now rushed downwards at the dodo was gaining tremendous speed and it’s shadow was getting progressively larger. Wang turned, concentrated and flew further away from the grey mass. There was an almighty crash and a large wave swept Wang further away from the chaos going on behind him. His concentration was broken and he fell into the water and began to gently sink.
Under the sea was an open Nightmare. A black horse suspended upside-down within a giant bubble. It’s torso had been sliced open and it’s intestines and blood were seeping out and running down it’s sides, covering black with a pink-red mush. Wang had seen these creatures in previous dreams but they had always been alive and he had only glimpsed at them before the dream had ended. Perhaps they were the enders of dreams? This one hadn’t the chance to end his dream. It was dead and imprisoned within it’s stationary bubble. Something began to move within the Nightmare’s corpse. From amongst what remained of the Nightmare’s entrails sprouted a green stalk with an eye.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed as if from nowhere. Wang decided to swim deeper into the sea, perhaps there would be something less grotesque at the seabed. He heard a cracking and crunching of bones behind him and decided that he would swim faster to escape the frightening sound. A bubble floated by him, it was completely full of a red substance not unlike blood, infact Wang was now sure that it was blood! From inside the bubble he could just make out an eye. ‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice was once again everywhere and nowhere. The surface of the bubble gently dissipated into the azure water, a cloud of red spreading ominously outwards. Wang swam away from this cloud of blood, heading downwards, trying to find the seabed. Why didn’t he need to breathe? It was his dream, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling that this dream was not real enough to make him wake up. Or was it too real? Normally he would have woken up before thinking of such things and normally he wouldn’t be able to breathe and this would provide the shock that would wake him up. Wang ploughed onwards and downwards into the water. It was getting warmer and the light was getting brighter. In front of him the water was definitely a lighter colour and getting lighter the further downwards he went.
Wang looked behind. He couldn’t make out the cloud of blood and decided it was safe to slow down and approach this lighter water with more caution. It was now bright enough to almost blind him. Where was the source of this light coming from? Suddenly he broke through a barrier and the water stopped. Waste deep in almost clear water Wang’s torso and head were in the breathable atmosphere. His body was trying to breathe this atmosphere again. Spitting out the water from his lungs he looked upwards trying to find the source of light, there wasn't one, it was just there. Wang heard galloping behind him and turned to see a Nightmare galloping towards him across the water. Then he woke up.
“Did you enjoy your sleep young master Zur?”
Wang awoke to an unfamiliar voice, fighting nausea and the smoky air, which now greeted his lungs.
“Zur?” He managed to say through the fit of coughing that had suddenly racked his body.
“Oh pleaze excuze my accent Zur only Oim not geared up to look after the loikes of royalty.”
“Royalty?” Wang looked around. He seemed to be in a dark wooden shack. But it wasn’t his wooden shack. He was lying naked on a pedestal of some-sort and there was a man in a brown cloak, his face obscured by a brown hood.
“Yes Zur.” Said the voice. “Youze is Prince Christian Fusewear. Heir to the throne of Trillathorn and holder of the sacred Siamese scriptures of sustenance.”
“Siamese what?” Wang thought his ears were failing him.
“You cook cats Zur.”
“I what?” His ears were definitely failing him.
“Y’know Zur, ‘Mioaw’ and all that? Oh you cooked up a roight bunch of furballs last time Zur. A veritable feline fricassee, if you don’t mind me saying so, y’r highness.”
Suddenly aware of his nakedness he said, “I’ll thank you to hand me some clothes before you feel the back of a princes hand.” He was trying to play the part of whoever he was supposed to be. This might allow him some time to workout just where the hell he was. The man stood there, obviously puzzled at what the Wang had just said. Wang glared at him.
“Roight away Zur”. The man darted off behind him to a previously unseen door. Wang took the opportunity to get a better look at his surroundings. On the wooden wall to the left of him there were several shelves of dusty bottles, all empty and all arranged neatly into sections according to their colour. In front of him was a wall covered entirely by a giant flag. The flag depicted a scene of a cat being burnt at the stake whilst all around it were humans jeering and holding up pitchforks or other farm tools. Several were straining to hold up a plough, obviously caught up in the tool gathering fervour, perhaps they were simply late or devoid of intelligence and rational thought. At the back of the mob was a man holding up a dog, he could almost hear the artists mind thinking ‘there was always one wasn’t there? One crazy man who would spoil a decent cat burning. Bloody commoners’. Wang turned his attention to the wall on his right. It was covered in dog pelts. Wang looked back at the crazy dog wielding man, he was wearing a brown cloak but his hood was down around his neck. He had a grey beard and long wavy grey hair. Wang looked back at the dog pelts, then back at the crazy man. He put two and two together.
“Oh ****.” He whispered to himself.
“What’s wrong Zur?” The crazy man had remarkable hearing. The crazy man put some clothes at the end of the pedestal. Wang glared at him. “Zur” he said quickly and sank humbly to kneel before Wang.
Wang examined the clothes: they were oddly fashioned. Some were practical and others seemed to be present merely for decoration. He put on a white silk shirt with big, wide sleeves. This fit him perfectly. On top of this he wore a leather jerkin it seemed heavy and he realised that metal plates had been incorporated into the jerkin by placing them in-between the layers of leather. Next on the pile were some princely tights, he threw them away, opting for tough leather trousers which also had metal plates incorporated into their design. He looked like a man you didn’t want to mess with. He chose soft fitting moccasin-type footwear over some metal boots deciding that he would rather flee than fight. Gloves were chosen because of their flexibility and the metal, which was once again subtly present. Sticking out of the pile was a sword, shining with an eerie brilliance in the dark shack. Lastly he chose a metal cap which the crazy man ceremoniously placed upon his head.
“Is that you in that picture?” Wang inquired, pointing to the flag.
“Yes sir, uh Zur that be Oi-”
Wang seized the moment to utter something that had been at the back of his mind. “Drop the accent.”
“What Zur?”
Wang pushed the man against the wall and held the sword to his throat “I said drop the accent. You are not the commoner you claim to be. Speak in your real voice before your prince or I’ll have your head” He was really getting into this now. He could see the man’s face now it was similar to the man in the picture, but it was scarred and hardened by weather, his chin was a different shape, his forehead too high and his hair too short, still grey but a darker grey. His nose looked like it had been broken a few times and his eyes betrayed no signs of madness or fear.
“Corporal Sedart, Elite Guard Sir.” The man was clearly dismayed at the discovery of his deception.
“Why the accent Corporal?”
“With respect Sir, your father gave word that you were not to be allowed to leave the Province of South Trillathorn to escape the marauders of West Trillathorn.”
“And why does he think I’d ever leave the Province of the South?”
“With respect sir we are now in North Trillathorn, and you have already left”.
“Ah.” Wang though for a second. “That is because I was on a secret mission of my own devising to visit and spy on the North to judge for myself whether the Province is sympathetic towards the West” He spat on the ground “or the South.”
In a simultaneous movement Sedart managed to push Wang away from him and bring his knee up sharply to cause Wang to drop his sword and fall to the floor in considerable pain.
“A noble gesture sir, and one which the King would have no doubt appreciated” Sedart said, picking up Wang’s sword and swinging the hilt round so that it struck Wang full in the face. There was a sudden flare of white and pain followed by blackness. Wang could just make out the sound of hands being briefly brushed of dirt before all was silent.
Wang awoke to the searing pain in his nose and lips. He looked about him. Mountains were all around him. The air was sparse and he had to struggle to adjust to it, feeling light headed. He looked down to see the donkey whose saddle his hands were tied to. His wrists were beginning to become raw and bloodied. Water was suddenly poured upon his aching wrists, soothing them and cooling the burning friction of the rope. Sedart was leading the donkey along a rough mountain trail, he turned and offered Wang a sip of the water flask he held out. Wang grudgingly accepted.
“Not so puffed up and prince like now are we? ‘Yur hignez Zur’” Sedart laughed at his own joke. It was a laugh that did not want to be joined by others. It was a laugh of triumph and a laugh that implied a bullying sense of humour. For the first time in his life Wang wanted to kill someone. Wang wanted to kill him. To somehow cause the Donkey to rear or charge and plant a hoof in the skull of Sedart. He gave none of this away and tried to act as civilized as he possibly could with the pain he felt and the indignity of it all.
“So I’m to be taken home to ‘daddy dearest’ am I?”
Sedart burst into another volley of laughter. “No boy!” Another laugh, regaining his breath he said “Do you really think that I, a lowly soldier in the army of the south, should return King Fusewear’s son to him trussed up like a chicken?” Wang said nothing, the question was obviously rhetorical. “I’ve defected boy! I’m joining the marauders! Five years, five whole years I’ve spent in your father’s employ. Five! And not a single commendation or medal, pay rise or bonus, adventure or battle have I had had since I joined. And the women of the south are all dried up old prunes! I’m joining the marauders for a true soldier’s life lad. Rape and pillage, ‘drunken brawls and the ripped up shawls/ of Western w***** taken up against doors/ and paid with the gold of the south/ for the things they do with their mouth!’”
“So I’m to be ransomed am I?”
“Don’t ask me lad, I get paid, what happens to you after that I can only guess at.”
“My father is rich” Wang hoped. “He’ll pay double even triple what the west are paying you.”
“But I need you to join their army lad! They don’t accept any old southern ponce. You have to be a b****** bathed in blood to get employ with the new duke of the West. ‘Oh aye! A b****** bathed in blood do ye be! / A b****** bathed in blood. Do ye see? / A b****** bathed in blood that’s me! / I’m a b****** bathed in blood!’”
“Why did you pretend to be loyal? Why didn’t you just kidnap me straightaway?”
“They wanted me to interrogate you, y’now find out what you knew.
“I know what ‘interrogate’ means you halfwit!” Wang’s assumed character came through again. Sedart stopped, surprised. Looked around with a scowl that would fell a tree. He briskly walked up to Wang and slammed the back of his hand into Wang’s face. Wang tasted blood.
“Now that’s the back of MY hand ‘you hignez Zur’.” He went back to leading the donkey. “Anyway, as I was saying. If you knew nothing of value I was to kill you on the spot-” He looked round again with a grin. “But when you mentioned your mission to the North I knew you would be worth more to me and the duke alive. I’ll probably get a promotion for bring you in my lad”.
“Not so fast their ‘halfwit’.” Came a voice from behind a cluster of rocks. Sedart’s only answer was to unsheathe his sword and stop where he was. “So, the little halfwit has courage. Didn’t your mother tell you it would be the death of you?” There was a sneer of satisfaction conveyed within those words.
“I never knew my mother.” Said Sedart, pausing for effect. “But I knew yours!” Sedart was calm and collected, trying to bait his opposition. Wang had to admire the man’s tenacity against unknown odds and assailants, he still wanted to kill him though.
“Aha!” A man in green velvet jumped out from behind a nearby rock. He leveled a fencing sword across one arm, pointing it at Sedart. “Ready to become a ‘b****** bathed in blood’? Your own of course.”
Sedart passed a knife back to Wang. “Get cutting boy.” He faced the green clothed man. “I am Sedart cleaver of children, cutthroat of wizards and bane to all who cross my path!”
“I am the Green man! Slicer of Sedart’s, Scyther of sellswords and protector of Princes!” Sedart raised an eyebrow then took the knife away from Wang. He threw the knife at the green man. The green man nimbly stepped to the side as the knife flew by. Sedart lunged forward with a sideways arc in an attempt to disembowel the Green man. The Green man dodged and thrust his sword under the collarbone of Sedart. Sedart’s anger forced him onwards, sliding along the fencing sword to grab the green man by the throat and driving him back against a rock. Sedart tried to bring his sword up but his arm would only rise slowly, denying a killing blow. The Green man put a foot against Sedart’s chest and began to push the man away from him. Leaving his sword embedded in Sedart he began to land heavy punches upon the sellsword’s face. There was a crack and Wang knew Sedart’s nose had been broken again. Sedart was still bringing his sword up when the Green man hit Sedart’s nose, a forceful strike with the ball of his hand, and drove the bone up into Sedart’s head. Sedart gasped and in a last effort swung round to support himself on the rock. His grip was gradually released from the Green man’s throat until finally he stood dead against the rock, still clutching his sword, dead eyes staring out at the newly setting sun.
“Aha!” The green man managed to choke. Regaining his breath, he pulled his fencing sword from Sedart’s body and twanged the end of it into Sedart’s face. Sedart slid down the rock, his mashed face and pierced body leaving a small trail of blood as it went. The Green man stood over Sedart’s body “Bloody sellswords”.
“Uh, a little help over here?” Wang really wanted to get off Sedart’s donkey and tend to his wrists.
The Green man turned “Oh sorry old boy, just respecting ones opponent in death eh?” Signaling, over his shoulder, at Sedart with his sword. The bravado was staged, from the Green man’s face Wang could tell that he hadn’t liked having to kill Sedart.
To be continued?
Wang let out a sigh of disbelief as the giant figure of a fluorescent green dodo filled the doorway of his small shack. He blinked: it disappeared. Like the rest of his family Wang had been exposed to the psychotropic drugs their bodies regularly produced whilst digesting his mother's half-baked schemes. The Planet they were currently on prevented his mother from killing his father by turning all her schemes into edible material which they called Bob. His mother had always wanted to kill his father and the arranged marriage was made so that this could be done legally. Unknown to either’s parents Wang’s dad had acquired a small cage, far to small to fit his wife in but just big enough for her head. Wang’s dad had then produced the cage upon meeting his spouse to be and quickly placed it upon her head, welding it to her earrings with some spare twigs. Wang’s mother then promptly head-butted his father to death.
By a secret process, consisting of a lot of shuffling about in a dark hut by the local Shaman, Wang’s mother was impregnated by the ghost of Wang’s father. Wang’s mother was then shot into space via a great cannon and thus banished from the local economy. She landed on the current planet where Wang now sat. Being slightly crazy, Wang’s mother decided that Wang’s father was still alive and on this planet, this produced the schemes, which produced the food, which allowed her to survive to carry on scheming. By a twist of fate Wang’s father’s ghost had also been fired off into space and landed on the exact same planet on which Wang now sat. The planet’s effects returned Wang’s father to life in the shape of an odd blue creature with a plumed tail and fish like eyes. There seemed to be a daily chase where his mother randomly picked up a kitchen implement and began beating the ground at untimely intervals. Wang’s father would come into the shack from time to time and would babble in some incoherent language translated through effluent and phlegm. Thus Wang’s shack smelt like something quite indescribable.
Wang couldn’t bare to throw any of his fathers letters (which he assumed were addressed to him) away, he would collect those that he found whilst out hiking. His father would leave a quick squiggle here and there, just to let Wang know that he was doing fine and that his mother’s random attacks on the planet’s surface were still as pointless as ever (in short they were evidence that he was still alive and that was all that Wang understood from them).
Wang was still confused about where he had come from, he was bored with simple existence and had set about making a cannon, with which to fire himself into space with. He had decided to build the cannon within the crater his mother had made when she had landed. This, he reasoned, would be roughly the place he should fire from if he ever wanted to get to his home planet. His grandfather had helped him build some of the cannon but the psychotropic drugs became enhanced within his metabolism and over time he began to think that Wang was a herd of giraffes which was hell bent on beating him to death with a coal shovel.
Wang decided to pre-empt the next attack from his grandfather by using his cleverly thought out plan of ‘clocking the old b****** when he wasn’t looking’. This had worked the previous nine thousand and eighty seven times he had decided to use it. Too late! The old git was shifting from side to side already, Wang was surprised to see that his grandfather had taken on the shape of a black and white hippo concertinaed within a concertina. This baffled Wang enough for Wang’s grandfather to utter in a squeaky, croaky voice ‘giraffes’ and ‘jubblies’ before crouching down (as much as a hippo could) and launching himself at Wang. Wang swung his shovel at the black and white mass, there was a loud metallic clang and the satisfying sound of an unconscious hippo landing in dough. Wang hadn’t noticed that pile of dough before and decided it was down to a shift in his perceptions. Yes he could see clearly now the green roof of his shack was covered in soft yellow dough. He tasted some, it was a new sensation for his tastebuds. His mother must have come up with another original scheme to catch his father with something that resulted in death, actually it was much more likely that she had made a new kitchen implement and begun beating the ground with it again. Perhaps she had hit an old patch of Bob with a new implement and that had created a new branch of Bob.
Bob was great. Wang really liked Bob. He and Bob would chat for hours about where Bob had come from and where he was going and likewise about Wang’s past and future. It appeared that Bob was a computer sent to aid his mother, ‘when she landed wherever she landed’, however the planets strange properties had changed Bob into hidden particles. These multiplied within the planet’s atmosphere and were released in certain forms depending on what type of malicious scheme his mother came up with. Bob couldn’t answer everything but he did know more than Wang and that was good enough for Wang.
Bob couldn’t tell Wang what Wang’s name was even though Wang kept on reminding him that his name was Wang. Bob would call him the ‘super ego’ for some reason. Wang didn’t really like this name much but he kept it too himself so as not to confuse Bob. Bob couldn’t tell Wang what his father’s names were but he could tell him that his father had many aliases and that his mother had one name which could never be spoken, written or in any other way communicated. Bob did say that he knew what her name was and suspected this was part of why he had become corrupted beyond the galactic gym. Wang didn’t know what the galactic gym was and neither did Bob, it was just a sentence which Bob knew but couldn’t explain. Bob was also edible as he was formed in that way by the molecules hidden in the atmosphere. Wang would happily chat to and eat Bob at the same time, Wang didn’t feel guilty for this but his grandfather did. Bob was describing the ceiling to himself as he viewed it with a critical red eye. The eye was suspended on a green stalk, which dangled the eye near to the base of the stalk, by a blue piece of string.
‘It’s very green isn’t it?’ Said Bob from some unseen orifice.
‘No’ Said Wang eagerly snapping the green stalk and devouring the eye and blue string in one.
‘Hey, I can see my house from here!’ said Bob. The rooted end of the green stalk thrashed about in the atmosphere then suddenly broke away from it’s doughy base and flew up the left nostril of the hippo. The hippo unconsciously dozed, murmuring ‘jubblies’ and ‘igglephants’ to itself.
“How’re my insides looking today?”
“Yech” came the reply, Bob didn’t know much about how people or machines worked he just knew that they did and that was good enough for Wang. If Bob didn’t know then Wang usually forgot about the question after a while.
‘Nice shovel. Where’d you get it? The get ahead shop?’
Wang groaned and ate a doughy piece of Bob.
“Geddit? The get a-head- shop?” said Bob pleased at his own joke. Wang rolled his eyes and broke off another piece of Bob.
“Bob, why don’t you mind us eating parts of you?” This question was one that didn’t disappear after a while.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” Said Bob trying to make another joke.
“I don’t know.” Sighed Bob waiting for another bad punchline.
“Exactly.” Said Bob.
“What?”
“I don’t know. It seems to be what I do and that’s what I’m supposed to do”. Another eye complete with string and stalk erupted from some dough on the ceiling.
“Oh” Wang pretended to understand but he actually wasn’t any the wiser. He grabbed some of yellow doughy Bob and threw it at the stalk and string part of Bob on the ceiling. The stalk withdrew before the piece of yellow Bob could hit it.
“Hah! You missed!” Yelled Bob.
Wang scooped up two large handfuls of yellow Bob dough and began to pelt the stalk and
string with it
“Woah!” Said Bob getting pelted by himself.
“Why can’t you do more than what you do?” Wang said, momentarily stopping the onslaught before resuming his target practice.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Said Bob whilst dodging atmosphere-borne pieces of himself with his stalk and string.
“How old am I?” Wang continued throwing some Bob; he was beginning to tire both physically and in enthusiasm, of lobbing pieces of his friend.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice took on a tinny sound but was still friendly. “Hey I can see some really horrible things up that hippo’s nose you know!”
Wang ignored the attempt to sidetrack him “Am I going to die?” He stopped throwing and waited for the answer.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice was still tinny but the friendly lilt was fading and being replaced by a rasping threatening tone. “Bob command 240. Super ego you have not been told about death”. The voice now sounded like it came from down a long series of metallic vents.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Wang mimicked back trying to sound like the friendly Bob and not this dangerous new Bob. Wang wanted to talk to old Bob. Wang waited. Nothing happened for a long time. Then the stalks and strings recoiled in spirals and the yellow doughy Bob was all that was left behind.
“Sorry Bob. I, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Feeling deflated, and clutching his shovel tightly to his chest, Wang curled up next to his hippo grandfather and sadly descended into sleep.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed out of the fluorescent green dodo’s nose. Wang knew he was dreaming but he didn’t want to wake up. He was steering his dream by some-sort of music and it was taking him to strange places. Upon a triple clef sat this fluorescent green dodo which was acting as conductor. Wang realised he was standing on some yellow dough and willed himself to take off into the atmosphere of his dream. He decided he would steal the baton from the green dodo.
He looked around for a good vantage point from which to launch himself at the green bird. His doughy footing was in-fact an island in the middle of an azure sea. The waves seemed to ripple with the movement of the tinkling strands of music, which seemed to emanate from the tip of the bird’s baton. There were no other islands, doughy or otherwise, within the sea.
The music took on physical form as it played from the baton creating a road of concrete notes for the dodo to walk upon. The dodo stood on its triple clef, a road of notes winding away into the distance. It fixed its gaze upon Wang. ‘Unknown’, once again Bob’s voice echoed out of the bird’s nose. Wang’s little island began to sink into the azure sea with alarming rapidity, Wang concentrated hard on getting himself to fly. He began to float upwards. His island disappeared but he was already aloft. Concentrating he flew towards the dodo which began to aim it’s baton towards him. Suddenly there was a thunderous explosion and something very large broke through the water, into the atmosphere and bared down on the dodo from the great height it had obtained, casting a shadow over Wang and the dodo. Sensing the impending danger Wang rushed at the dodo and tried to grab the baton. He missed by inches, his momentum carrying him out of the radius of the great shadow. The large grey shape which now rushed downwards at the dodo was gaining tremendous speed and it’s shadow was getting progressively larger. Wang turned, concentrated and flew further away from the grey mass. There was an almighty crash and a large wave swept Wang further away from the chaos going on behind him. His concentration was broken and he fell into the water and began to gently sink.
Under the sea was an open Nightmare. A black horse suspended upside-down within a giant bubble. It’s torso had been sliced open and it’s intestines and blood were seeping out and running down it’s sides, covering black with a pink-red mush. Wang had seen these creatures in previous dreams but they had always been alive and he had only glimpsed at them before the dream had ended. Perhaps they were the enders of dreams? This one hadn’t the chance to end his dream. It was dead and imprisoned within it’s stationary bubble. Something began to move within the Nightmare’s corpse. From amongst what remained of the Nightmare’s entrails sprouted a green stalk with an eye.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed as if from nowhere. Wang decided to swim deeper into the sea, perhaps there would be something less grotesque at the seabed. He heard a cracking and crunching of bones behind him and decided that he would swim faster to escape the frightening sound. A bubble floated by him, it was completely full of a red substance not unlike blood, infact Wang was now sure that it was blood! From inside the bubble he could just make out an eye. ‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice was once again everywhere and nowhere. The surface of the bubble gently dissipated into the azure water, a cloud of red spreading ominously outwards. Wang swam away from this cloud of blood, heading downwards, trying to find the seabed. Why didn’t he need to breathe? It was his dream, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling that this dream was not real enough to make him wake up. Or was it too real? Normally he would have woken up before thinking of such things and normally he wouldn’t be able to breathe and this would provide the shock that would wake him up. Wang ploughed onwards and downwards into the water. It was getting warmer and the light was getting brighter. In front of him the water was definitely a lighter colour and getting lighter the further downwards he went.
Wang looked behind. He couldn’t make out the cloud of blood and decided it was safe to slow down and approach this lighter water with more caution. It was now bright enough to almost blind him. Where was the source of this light coming from? Suddenly he broke through a barrier and the water stopped. Waste deep in almost clear water Wang’s torso and head were in the breathable atmosphere. His body was trying to breathe this atmosphere again. Spitting out the water from his lungs he looked upwards trying to find the source of light, there wasn't one, it was just there. Wang heard galloping behind him and turned to see a Nightmare galloping towards him across the water. Then he woke up.
“Did you enjoy your sleep young master Zur?”
Wang awoke to an unfamiliar voice, fighting nausea and the smoky air, which now greeted his lungs.
“Zur?” He managed to say through the fit of coughing that had suddenly racked his body.
“Oh pleaze excuze my accent Zur only Oim not geared up to look after the loikes of royalty.”
“Royalty?” Wang looked around. He seemed to be in a dark wooden shack. But it wasn’t his wooden shack. He was lying naked on a pedestal of some-sort and there was a man in a brown cloak, his face obscured by a brown hood.
“Yes Zur.” Said the voice. “Youze is Prince Christian Fusewear. Heir to the throne of Trillathorn and holder of the sacred Siamese scriptures of sustenance.”
“Siamese what?” Wang thought his ears were failing him.
“You cook cats Zur.”
“I what?” His ears were definitely failing him.
“Y’know Zur, ‘Mioaw’ and all that? Oh you cooked up a roight bunch of furballs last time Zur. A veritable feline fricassee, if you don’t mind me saying so, y’r highness.”
Suddenly aware of his nakedness he said, “I’ll thank you to hand me some clothes before you feel the back of a princes hand.” He was trying to play the part of whoever he was supposed to be. This might allow him some time to workout just where the hell he was. The man stood there, obviously puzzled at what the Wang had just said. Wang glared at him.
“Roight away Zur”. The man darted off behind him to a previously unseen door. Wang took the opportunity to get a better look at his surroundings. On the wooden wall to the left of him there were several shelves of dusty bottles, all empty and all arranged neatly into sections according to their colour. In front of him was a wall covered entirely by a giant flag. The flag depicted a scene of a cat being burnt at the stake whilst all around it were humans jeering and holding up pitchforks or other farm tools. Several were straining to hold up a plough, obviously caught up in the tool gathering fervour, perhaps they were simply late or devoid of intelligence and rational thought. At the back of the mob was a man holding up a dog, he could almost hear the artists mind thinking ‘there was always one wasn’t there? One crazy man who would spoil a decent cat burning. Bloody commoners’. Wang turned his attention to the wall on his right. It was covered in dog pelts. Wang looked back at the crazy dog wielding man, he was wearing a brown cloak but his hood was down around his neck. He had a grey beard and long wavy grey hair. Wang looked back at the dog pelts, then back at the crazy man. He put two and two together.
“Oh ****.” He whispered to himself.
“What’s wrong Zur?” The crazy man had remarkable hearing. The crazy man put some clothes at the end of the pedestal. Wang glared at him. “Zur” he said quickly and sank humbly to kneel before Wang.
Wang examined the clothes: they were oddly fashioned. Some were practical and others seemed to be present merely for decoration. He put on a white silk shirt with big, wide sleeves. This fit him perfectly. On top of this he wore a leather jerkin it seemed heavy and he realised that metal plates had been incorporated into the jerkin by placing them in-between the layers of leather. Next on the pile were some princely tights, he threw them away, opting for tough leather trousers which also had metal plates incorporated into their design. He looked like a man you didn’t want to mess with. He chose soft fitting moccasin-type footwear over some metal boots deciding that he would rather flee than fight. Gloves were chosen because of their flexibility and the metal, which was once again subtly present. Sticking out of the pile was a sword, shining with an eerie brilliance in the dark shack. Lastly he chose a metal cap which the crazy man ceremoniously placed upon his head.
“Is that you in that picture?” Wang inquired, pointing to the flag.
“Yes sir, uh Zur that be Oi-”
Wang seized the moment to utter something that had been at the back of his mind. “Drop the accent.”
“What Zur?”
Wang pushed the man against the wall and held the sword to his throat “I said drop the accent. You are not the commoner you claim to be. Speak in your real voice before your prince or I’ll have your head” He was really getting into this now. He could see the man’s face now it was similar to the man in the picture, but it was scarred and hardened by weather, his chin was a different shape, his forehead too high and his hair too short, still grey but a darker grey. His nose looked like it had been broken a few times and his eyes betrayed no signs of madness or fear.
“Corporal Sedart, Elite Guard Sir.” The man was clearly dismayed at the discovery of his deception.
“Why the accent Corporal?”
“With respect Sir, your father gave word that you were not to be allowed to leave the Province of South Trillathorn to escape the marauders of West Trillathorn.”
“And why does he think I’d ever leave the Province of the South?”
“With respect sir we are now in North Trillathorn, and you have already left”.
“Ah.” Wang though for a second. “That is because I was on a secret mission of my own devising to visit and spy on the North to judge for myself whether the Province is sympathetic towards the West” He spat on the ground “or the South.”
In a simultaneous movement Sedart managed to push Wang away from him and bring his knee up sharply to cause Wang to drop his sword and fall to the floor in considerable pain.
“A noble gesture sir, and one which the King would have no doubt appreciated” Sedart said, picking up Wang’s sword and swinging the hilt round so that it struck Wang full in the face. There was a sudden flare of white and pain followed by blackness. Wang could just make out the sound of hands being briefly brushed of dirt before all was silent.
Wang awoke to the searing pain in his nose and lips. He looked about him. Mountains were all around him. The air was sparse and he had to struggle to adjust to it, feeling light headed. He looked down to see the donkey whose saddle his hands were tied to. His wrists were beginning to become raw and bloodied. Water was suddenly poured upon his aching wrists, soothing them and cooling the burning friction of the rope. Sedart was leading the donkey along a rough mountain trail, he turned and offered Wang a sip of the water flask he held out. Wang grudgingly accepted.
“Not so puffed up and prince like now are we? ‘Yur hignez Zur’” Sedart laughed at his own joke. It was a laugh that did not want to be joined by others. It was a laugh of triumph and a laugh that implied a bullying sense of humour. For the first time in his life Wang wanted to kill someone. Wang wanted to kill him. To somehow cause the Donkey to rear or charge and plant a hoof in the skull of Sedart. He gave none of this away and tried to act as civilized as he possibly could with the pain he felt and the indignity of it all.
“So I’m to be taken home to ‘daddy dearest’ am I?”
Sedart burst into another volley of laughter. “No boy!” Another laugh, regaining his breath he said “Do you really think that I, a lowly soldier in the army of the south, should return King Fusewear’s son to him trussed up like a chicken?” Wang said nothing, the question was obviously rhetorical. “I’ve defected boy! I’m joining the marauders! Five years, five whole years I’ve spent in your father’s employ. Five! And not a single commendation or medal, pay rise or bonus, adventure or battle have I had had since I joined. And the women of the south are all dried up old prunes! I’m joining the marauders for a true soldier’s life lad. Rape and pillage, ‘drunken brawls and the ripped up shawls/ of Western w***** taken up against doors/ and paid with the gold of the south/ for the things they do with their mouth!’”
“So I’m to be ransomed am I?”
“Don’t ask me lad, I get paid, what happens to you after that I can only guess at.”
“My father is rich” Wang hoped. “He’ll pay double even triple what the west are paying you.”
“But I need you to join their army lad! They don’t accept any old southern ponce. You have to be a b****** bathed in blood to get employ with the new duke of the West. ‘Oh aye! A b****** bathed in blood do ye be! / A b****** bathed in blood. Do ye see? / A b****** bathed in blood that’s me! / I’m a b****** bathed in blood!’”
“Why did you pretend to be loyal? Why didn’t you just kidnap me straightaway?”
“They wanted me to interrogate you, y’now find out what you knew.
“I know what ‘interrogate’ means you halfwit!” Wang’s assumed character came through again. Sedart stopped, surprised. Looked around with a scowl that would fell a tree. He briskly walked up to Wang and slammed the back of his hand into Wang’s face. Wang tasted blood.
“Now that’s the back of MY hand ‘you hignez Zur’.” He went back to leading the donkey. “Anyway, as I was saying. If you knew nothing of value I was to kill you on the spot-” He looked round again with a grin. “But when you mentioned your mission to the North I knew you would be worth more to me and the duke alive. I’ll probably get a promotion for bring you in my lad”.
“Not so fast their ‘halfwit’.” Came a voice from behind a cluster of rocks. Sedart’s only answer was to unsheathe his sword and stop where he was. “So, the little halfwit has courage. Didn’t your mother tell you it would be the death of you?” There was a sneer of satisfaction conveyed within those words.
“I never knew my mother.” Said Sedart, pausing for effect. “But I knew yours!” Sedart was calm and collected, trying to bait his opposition. Wang had to admire the man’s tenacity against unknown odds and assailants, he still wanted to kill him though.
“Aha!” A man in green velvet jumped out from behind a nearby rock. He leveled a fencing sword across one arm, pointing it at Sedart. “Ready to become a ‘b****** bathed in blood’? Your own of course.”
Sedart passed a knife back to Wang. “Get cutting boy.” He faced the green clothed man. “I am Sedart cleaver of children, cutthroat of wizards and bane to all who cross my path!”
“I am the Green man! Slicer of Sedart’s, Scyther of sellswords and protector of Princes!” Sedart raised an eyebrow then took the knife away from Wang. He threw the knife at the green man. The green man nimbly stepped to the side as the knife flew by. Sedart lunged forward with a sideways arc in an attempt to disembowel the Green man. The Green man dodged and thrust his sword under the collarbone of Sedart. Sedart’s anger forced him onwards, sliding along the fencing sword to grab the green man by the throat and driving him back against a rock. Sedart tried to bring his sword up but his arm would only rise slowly, denying a killing blow. The Green man put a foot against Sedart’s chest and began to push the man away from him. Leaving his sword embedded in Sedart he began to land heavy punches upon the sellsword’s face. There was a crack and Wang knew Sedart’s nose had been broken again. Sedart was still bringing his sword up when the Green man hit Sedart’s nose, a forceful strike with the ball of his hand, and drove the bone up into Sedart’s head. Sedart gasped and in a last effort swung round to support himself on the rock. His grip was gradually released from the Green man’s throat until finally he stood dead against the rock, still clutching his sword, dead eyes staring out at the newly setting sun.
“Aha!” The green man managed to choke. Regaining his breath, he pulled his fencing sword from Sedart’s body and twanged the end of it into Sedart’s face. Sedart slid down the rock, his mashed face and pierced body leaving a small trail of blood as it went. The Green man stood over Sedart’s body “Bloody sellswords”.
“Uh, a little help over here?” Wang really wanted to get off Sedart’s donkey and tend to his wrists.
The Green man turned “Oh sorry old boy, just respecting ones opponent in death eh?” Signaling, over his shoulder, at Sedart with his sword. The bravado was staged, from the Green man’s face Wang could tell that he hadn’t liked having to kill Sedart.
To be continued?
Wang hit his grandfather on the head for the fiftieth time that day, the old b****** just wouldn’t stay down. Wang had decided he would need to get yet another coal shovel. His current shovel was now roughly the shape of the top of his grandfather’s head.
Wang let out a sigh of disbelief as the giant figure of a fluorescent green dodo filled the doorway of his small shack. He blinked: it disappeared. Like the rest of his family Wang had been exposed to the psychotropic drugs their bodies regularly produced whilst digesting his mother's half-baked schemes. The Planet they were currently on prevented his mother from killing his father by turning all her schemes into edible material which they called Bob. His mother had always wanted to kill his father and the arranged marriage was made so that this could be done legally. Unknown to either’s parents Wang’s dad had acquired a small cage, far to small to fit his wife in but just big enough for her head. Wang’s dad had then produced the cage upon meeting his spouse to be and quickly placed it upon her head, welding it to her earrings with some spare twigs. Wang’s mother then promptly head-butted his father to death.
By a secret process, consisting of a lot of shuffling about in a dark hut by the local Shaman, Wang’s mother was impregnated by the ghost of Wang’s father. Wang’s mother was then shot into space via a great cannon and thus banished from the local economy. She landed on the current planet where Wang now sat. Being slightly crazy, Wang’s mother decided that Wang’s father was still alive and on this planet, this produced the schemes, which produced the food, which allowed her to survive to carry on scheming. By a twist of fate Wang’s father’s ghost had also been fired off into space and landed on the exact same planet on which Wang now sat. The planet’s effects returned Wang’s father to life in the shape of an odd blue creature with a plumed tail and fish like eyes. There seemed to be a daily chase where his mother randomly picked up a kitchen implement and began beating the ground at untimely intervals. Wang’s father would come into the shack from time to time and would babble in some incoherent language translated through effluent and phlegm. Thus Wang’s shack smelt like something quite indescribable.
Wang couldn’t bare to throw any of his fathers letters (which he assumed were addressed to him) away, he would collect those that he found whilst out hiking. His father would leave a quick squiggle here and there, just to let Wang know that he was doing fine and that his mother’s random attacks on the planet’s surface were still as pointless as ever (in short they were evidence that he was still alive and that was all that Wang understood from them).
Wang was still confused about where he had come from, he was bored with simple existence and had set about making a cannon, with which to fire himself into space with. He had decided to build the cannon within the crater his mother had made when she had landed. This, he reasoned, would be roughly the place he should fire from if he ever wanted to get to his home planet. His grandfather had helped him build some of the cannon but the psychotropic drugs became enhanced within his metabolism and over time he began to think that Wang was a herd of giraffes which was hell bent on beating him to death with a coal shovel.
Wang decided to pre-empt the next attack from his grandfather by using his cleverly thought out plan of ‘clocking the old b****** when he wasn’t looking’. This had worked the previous nine thousand and eighty seven times he had decided to use it. Too late! The old git was shifting from side to side already, Wang was surprised to see that his grandfather had taken on the shape of a black and white hippo concertinaed within a concertina. This baffled Wang enough for Wang’s grandfather to utter in a squeaky, croaky voice ‘giraffes’ and ‘jubblies’ before crouching down (as much as a hippo could) and launching himself at Wang. Wang swung his shovel at the black and white mass, there was a loud metallic clang and the satisfying sound of an unconscious hippo landing in dough. Wang hadn’t noticed that pile of dough before and decided it was down to a shift in his perceptions. Yes he could see clearly now the green roof of his shack was covered in soft yellow dough. He tasted some, it was a new sensation for his tastebuds. His mother must have come up with another original scheme to catch his father with something that resulted in death, actually it was much more likely that she had made a new kitchen implement and begun beating the ground with it again. Perhaps she had hit an old patch of Bob with a new implement and that had created a new branch of Bob.
Bob was great. Wang really liked Bob. He and Bob would chat for hours about where Bob had come from and where he was going and likewise about Wang’s past and future. It appeared that Bob was a computer sent to aid his mother, ‘when she landed wherever she landed’, however the planets strange properties had changed Bob into hidden particles. These multiplied within the planet’s atmosphere and were released in certain forms depending on what type of malicious scheme his mother came up with. Bob couldn’t answer everything but he did know more than Wang and that was good enough for Wang.
Bob couldn’t tell Wang what Wang’s name was even though Wang kept on reminding him that his name was Wang. Bob would call him the ‘super ego’ for some reason. Wang didn’t really like this name much but he kept it too himself so as not to confuse Bob. Bob couldn’t tell Wang what his father’s names were but he could tell him that his father had many aliases and that his mother had one name which could never be spoken, written or in any other way communicated. Bob did say that he knew what her name was and suspected this was part of why he had become corrupted beyond the galactic gym. Wang didn’t know what the galactic gym was and neither did Bob, it was just a sentence which Bob knew but couldn’t explain. Bob was also edible as he was formed in that way by the molecules hidden in the atmosphere. Wang would happily chat to and eat Bob at the same time, Wang didn’t feel guilty for this but his grandfather did. Bob was describing the ceiling to himself as he viewed it with a critical red eye. The eye was suspended on a green stalk, which dangled the eye near to the base of the stalk, by a blue piece of string.
‘It’s very green isn’t it?’ Said Bob from some unseen orifice.
‘No’ Said Wang eagerly snapping the green stalk and devouring the eye and blue string in one.
‘Hey, I can see my house from here!’ said Bob. The rooted end of the green stalk thrashed about in the atmosphere then suddenly broke away from it’s doughy base and flew up the left nostril of the hippo. The hippo unconsciously dozed, murmuring ‘jubblies’ and ‘igglephants’ to itself.
“How’re my insides looking today?”
“Yech” came the reply, Bob didn’t know much about how people or machines worked he just knew that they did and that was good enough for Wang. If Bob didn’t know then Wang usually forgot about the question after a while.
‘Nice shovel. Where’d you get it? The get ahead shop?’
Wang groaned and ate a doughy piece of Bob.
“Geddit? The get a-head- shop?” said Bob pleased at his own joke. Wang rolled his eyes and broke off another piece of Bob.
“Bob, why don’t you mind us eating parts of you?” This question was one that didn’t disappear after a while.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” Said Bob trying to make another joke.
“I don’t know.” Sighed Bob waiting for another bad punchline.
“Exactly.” Said Bob.
“What?”
“I don’t know. It seems to be what I do and that’s what I’m supposed to do”. Another eye complete with string and stalk erupted from some dough on the ceiling.
“Oh” Wang pretended to understand but he actually wasn’t any the wiser. He grabbed some of yellow doughy Bob and threw it at the stalk and string part of Bob on the ceiling. The stalk withdrew before the piece of yellow Bob could hit it.
“Hah! You missed!” Yelled Bob.
Wang scooped up two large handfuls of yellow Bob dough and began to pelt the stalk and
string with it
“Woah!” Said Bob getting pelted by himself.
“Why can’t you do more than what you do?” Wang said, momentarily stopping the onslaught before resuming his target practice.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Said Bob whilst dodging atmosphere-borne pieces of himself with his stalk and string.
“How old am I?” Wang continued throwing some Bob; he was beginning to tire both physically and in enthusiasm, of lobbing pieces of his friend.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice took on a tinny sound but was still friendly. “Hey I can see some really horrible things up that hippo’s nose you know!”
Wang ignored the attempt to sidetrack him “Am I going to die?” He stopped throwing and waited for the answer.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice was still tinny but the friendly lilt was fading and being replaced by a rasping threatening tone. “Bob command 240. Super ego you have not been told about death”. The voice now sounded like it came from down a long series of metallic vents.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Wang mimicked back trying to sound like the friendly Bob and not this dangerous new Bob. Wang wanted to talk to old Bob. Wang waited. Nothing happened for a long time. Then the stalks and strings recoiled in spirals and the yellow doughy Bob was all that was left behind.
“Sorry Bob. I, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Feeling deflated, and clutching his shovel tightly to his chest, Wang curled up next to his hippo grandfather and sadly descended into sleep.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed out of the fluorescent green dodo’s nose. Wang knew he was dreaming but he didn’t want to wake up. He was steering his dream by some-sort of music and it was taking him to strange places. Upon a triple clef sat this fluorescent green dodo which was acting as conductor. Wang realised he was standing on some yellow dough and willed himself to take off into the atmosphere of his dream. He decided he would steal the baton from the green dodo.
He looked around for a good vantage point from which to launch himself at the green bird. His doughy footing was in-fact an island in the middle of an azure sea. The waves seemed to ripple with the movement of the tinkling strands of music, which seemed to emanate from the tip of the bird’s baton. There were no other islands, doughy or otherwise, within the sea.
The music took on physical form as it played from the baton creating a road of concrete notes for the dodo to walk upon. The dodo stood on its triple clef, a road of notes winding away into the distance. It fixed its gaze upon Wang. ‘Unknown’, once again Bob’s voice echoed out of the bird’s nose. Wang’s little island began to sink into the azure sea with alarming rapidity, Wang concentrated hard on getting himself to fly. He began to float upwards. His island disappeared but he was already aloft. Concentrating he flew towards the dodo which began to aim it’s baton towards him. Suddenly there was a thunderous explosion and something very large broke through the water, into the atmosphere and bared down on the dodo from the great height it had obtained, casting a shadow over Wang and the dodo. Sensing the impending danger Wang rushed at the dodo and tried to grab the baton. He missed by inches, his momentum carrying him out of the radius of the great shadow. The large grey shape which now rushed downwards at the dodo was gaining tremendous speed and it’s shadow was getting progressively larger. Wang turned, concentrated and flew further away from the grey mass. There was an almighty crash and a large wave swept Wang further away from the chaos going on behind him. His concentration was broken and he fell into the water and began to gently sink.
Under the sea was an open Nightmare. A black horse suspended upside-down within a giant bubble. It’s torso had been sliced open and it’s intestines and blood were seeping out and running down it’s sides, covering black with a pink-red mush. Wang had seen these creatures in previous dreams but they had always been alive and he had only glimpsed at them before the dream had ended. Perhaps they were the enders of dreams? This one hadn’t the chance to end his dream. It was dead and imprisoned within it’s stationary bubble. Something began to move within the Nightmare’s corpse. From amongst what remained of the Nightmare’s entrails sprouted a green stalk with an eye.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed as if from nowhere. Wang decided to swim deeper into the sea, perhaps there would be something less grotesque at the seabed. He heard a cracking and crunching of bones behind him and decided that he would swim faster to escape the frightening sound. A bubble floated by him, it was completely full of a red substance not unlike blood, infact Wang was now sure that it was blood! From inside the bubble he could just make out an eye. ‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice was once again everywhere and nowhere. The surface of the bubble gently dissipated into the azure water, a cloud of red spreading ominously outwards. Wang swam away from this cloud of blood, heading downwards, trying to find the seabed. Why didn’t he need to breathe? It was his dream, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling that this dream was not real enough to make him wake up. Or was it too real? Normally he would have woken up before thinking of such things and normally he wouldn’t be able to breathe and this would provide the shock that would wake him up. Wang ploughed onwards and downwards into the water. It was getting warmer and the light was getting brighter. In front of him the water was definitely a lighter colour and getting lighter the further downwards he went.
Wang looked behind. He couldn’t make out the cloud of blood and decided it was safe to slow down and approach this lighter water with more caution. It was now bright enough to almost blind him. Where was the source of this light coming from? Suddenly he broke through a barrier and the water stopped. Waste deep in almost clear water Wang’s torso and head were in the breathable atmosphere. His body was trying to breathe this atmosphere again. Spitting out the water from his lungs he looked upwards trying to find the source of light, there wasn't one, it was just there. Wang heard galloping behind him and turned to see a Nightmare galloping towards him across the water. Then he woke up.
“Did you enjoy your sleep young master Zur?”
Wang awoke to an unfamiliar voice, fighting nausea and the smoky air, which now greeted his lungs.
“Zur?” He managed to say through the fit of coughing that had suddenly racked his body.
“Oh pleaze excuze my accent Zur only Oim not geared up to look after the loikes of royalty.”
“Royalty?” Wang looked around. He seemed to be in a dark wooden shack. But it wasn’t his wooden shack. He was lying naked on a pedestal of some-sort and there was a man in a brown cloak, his face obscured by a brown hood.
“Yes Zur.” Said the voice. “Youze is Prince Christian Fusewear. Heir to the throne of Trillathorn and holder of the sacred Siamese scriptures of sustenance.”
“Siamese what?” Wang thought his ears were failing him.
“You cook cats Zur.”
“I what?” His ears were definitely failing him.
“Y’know Zur, ‘Mioaw’ and all that? Oh you cooked up a roight bunch of furballs last time Zur. A veritable feline fricassee, if you don’t mind me saying so, y’r highness.”
Suddenly aware of his nakedness he said, “I’ll thank you to hand me some clothes before you feel the back of a princes hand.” He was trying to play the part of whoever he was supposed to be. This might allow him some time to workout just where the hell he was. The man stood there, obviously puzzled at what the Wang had just said. Wang glared at him.
“Roight away Zur”. The man darted off behind him to a previously unseen door. Wang took the opportunity to get a better look at his surroundings. On the wooden wall to the left of him there were several shelves of dusty bottles, all empty and all arranged neatly into sections according to their colour. In front of him was a wall covered entirely by a giant flag. The flag depicted a scene of a cat being burnt at the stake whilst all around it were humans jeering and holding up pitchforks or other farm tools. Several were straining to hold up a plough, obviously caught up in the tool gathering fervour, perhaps they were simply late or devoid of intelligence and rational thought. At the back of the mob was a man holding up a dog, he could almost hear the artists mind thinking ‘there was always one wasn’t there? One crazy man who would spoil a decent cat burning. Bloody commoners’. Wang turned his attention to the wall on his right. It was covered in dog pelts. Wang looked back at the crazy dog wielding man, he was wearing a brown cloak but his hood was down around his neck. He had a grey beard and long wavy grey hair. Wang looked back at the dog pelts, then back at the crazy man. He put two and two together.
“Oh ****.” He whispered to himself.
“What’s wrong Zur?” The crazy man had remarkable hearing. The crazy man put some clothes at the end of the pedestal. Wang glared at him. “Zur” he said quickly and sank humbly to kneel before Wang.
Wang examined the clothes: they were oddly fashioned. Some were practical and others seemed to be present merely for decoration. He put on a white silk shirt with big, wide sleeves. This fit him perfectly. On top of this he wore a leather jerkin it seemed heavy and he realised that metal plates had been incorporated into the jerkin by placing them in-between the layers of leather. Next on the pile were some princely tights, he threw them away, opting for tough leather trousers which also had metal plates incorporated into their design. He looked like a man you didn’t want to mess with. He chose soft fitting moccasin-type footwear over some metal boots deciding that he would rather flee than fight. Gloves were chosen because of their flexibility and the metal, which was once again subtly present. Sticking out of the pile was a sword, shining with an eerie brilliance in the dark shack. Lastly he chose a metal cap which the crazy man ceremoniously placed upon his head.
“Is that you in that picture?” Wang inquired, pointing to the flag.
“Yes sir, uh Zur that be Oi-”
Wang seized the moment to utter something that had been at the back of his mind. “Drop the accent.”
“What Zur?”
Wang pushed the man against the wall and held the sword to his throat “I said drop the accent. You are not the commoner you claim to be. Speak in your real voice before your prince or I’ll have your head” He was really getting into this now. He could see the man’s face now it was similar to the man in the picture, but it was scarred and hardened by weather, his chin was a different shape, his forehead too high and his hair too short, still grey but a darker grey. His nose looked like it had been broken a few times and his eyes betrayed no signs of madness or fear.
“Corporal Sedart, Elite Guard Sir.” The man was clearly dismayed at the discovery of his deception.
“Why the accent Corporal?”
“With respect Sir, your father gave word that you were not to be allowed to leave the Province of South Trillathorn to escape the marauders of West Trillathorn.”
“And why does he think I’d ever leave the Province of the South?”
“With respect sir we are now in North Trillathorn, and you have already left”.
“Ah.” Wang though for a second. “That is because I was on a secret mission of my own devising to visit and spy on the North to judge for myself whether the Province is sympathetic towards the West” He spat on the ground “or the South.”
In a simultaneous movement Sedart managed to push Wang away from him and bring his knee up sharply to cause Wang to drop his sword and fall to the floor in considerable pain.
“A noble gesture sir, and one which the King would have no doubt appreciated” Sedart said, picking up Wang’s sword and swinging the hilt round so that it struck Wang full in the face. There was a sudden flare of white and pain followed by blackness. Wang could just make out the sound of hands being briefly brushed of dirt before all was silent.
Wang awoke to the searing pain in his nose and lips. He looked about him. Mountains were all around him. The air was sparse and he had to struggle to adjust to it, feeling light headed. He looked down to see the donkey whose saddle his hands were tied to. His wrists were beginning to become raw and bloodied. Water was suddenly poured upon his aching wrists, soothing them and cooling the burning friction of the rope. Sedart was leading the donkey along a rough mountain trail, he turned and offered Wang a sip of the water flask he held out. Wang grudgingly accepted.
“Not so puffed up and prince like now are we? ‘Yur hignez Zur’” Sedart laughed at his own joke. It was a laugh that did not want to be joined by others. It was a laugh of triumph and a laugh that implied a bullying sense of humour. For the first time in his life Wang wanted to kill someone. Wang wanted to kill him. To somehow cause the Donkey to rear or charge and plant a hoof in the skull of Sedart. He gave none of this away and tried to act as civilized as he possibly could with the pain he felt and the indignity of it all.
“So I’m to be taken home to ‘daddy dearest’ am I?”
Sedart burst into another volley of laughter. “No boy!” Another laugh, regaining his breath he said “Do you really think that I, a lowly soldier in the army of the south, should return King Fusewear’s son to him trussed up like a chicken?” Wang said nothing, the question was obviously rhetorical. “I’ve defected boy! I’m joining the marauders! Five years, five whole years I’ve spent in your father’s employ. Five! And not a single commendation or medal, pay rise or bonus, adventure or battle have I had had since I joined. And the women of the south are all dried up old prunes! I’m joining the marauders for a true soldier’s life lad. Rape and pillage, ‘drunken brawls and the ripped up shawls/ of Western w***** taken up against doors/ and paid with the gold of the south/ for the things they do with their mouth!’”
“So I’m to be ransomed am I?”
“Don’t ask me lad, I get paid, what happens to you after that I can only guess at.”
“My father is rich” Wang hoped. “He’ll pay double even triple what the west are paying you.”
“But I need you to join their army lad! They don’t accept any old southern ponce. You have to be a b****** bathed in blood to get employ with the new duke of the West. ‘Oh aye! A b****** bathed in blood do ye be! / A b****** bathed in blood. Do ye see? / A b****** bathed in blood that’s me! / I’m a b****** bathed in blood!’”
“Why did you pretend to be loyal? Why didn’t you just kidnap me straightaway?”
“They wanted me to interrogate you, y’now find out what you knew.
“I know what ‘interrogate’ means you halfwit!” Wang’s assumed character came through again. Sedart stopped, surprised. Looked around with a scowl that would fell a tree. He briskly walked up to Wang and slammed the back of his hand into Wang’s face. Wang tasted blood.
“Now that’s the back of MY hand ‘you hignez Zur’.” He went back to leading the donkey. “Anyway, as I was saying. If you knew nothing of value I was to kill you on the spot-” He looked round again with a grin. “But when you mentioned your mission to the North I knew you would be worth more to me and the duke alive. I’ll probably get a promotion for bring you in my lad”.
“Not so fast their ‘halfwit’.” Came a voice from behind a cluster of rocks. Sedart’s only answer was to unsheathe his sword and stop where he was. “So, the little halfwit has courage. Didn’t your mother tell you it would be the death of you?” There was a sneer of satisfaction conveyed within those words.
“I never knew my mother.” Said Sedart, pausing for effect. “But I knew yours!” Sedart was calm and collected, trying to bait his opposition. Wang had to admire the man’s tenacity against unknown odds and assailants, he still wanted to kill him though.
“Aha!” A man in green velvet jumped out from behind a nearby rock. He leveled a fencing sword across one arm, pointing it at Sedart. “Ready to become a ‘b****** bathed in blood’? Your own of course.”
Sedart passed a knife back to Wang. “Get cutting boy.” He faced the green clothed man. “I am Sedart cleaver of children, cutthroat of wizards and bane to all who cross my path!”
“I am the Green man! Slicer of Sedart’s, Scyther of sellswords and protector of Princes!” Sedart raised an eyebrow then took the knife away from Wang. He threw the knife at the green man. The green man nimbly stepped to the side as the knife flew by. Sedart lunged forward with a sideways arc in an attempt to disembowel the Green man. The Green man dodged and thrust his sword under the collarbone of Sedart. Sedart’s anger forced him onwards, sliding along the fencing sword to grab the green man by the throat and driving him back against a rock. Sedart tried to bring his sword up but his arm would only rise slowly, denying a killing blow. The Green man put a foot against Sedart’s chest and began to push the man away from him. Leaving his sword embedded in Sedart he began to land heavy punches upon the sellsword’s face. There was a crack and Wang knew Sedart’s nose had been broken again. Sedart was still bringing his sword up when the Green man hit Sedart’s nose, a forceful strike with the ball of his hand, and drove the bone up into Sedart’s head. Sedart gasped and in a last effort swung round to support himself on the rock. His grip was gradually released from the Green man’s throat until finally he stood dead against the rock, still clutching his sword, dead eyes staring out at the newly setting sun.
“Aha!” The green man managed to choke. Regaining his breath, he pulled his fencing sword from Sedart’s body and twanged the end of it into Sedart’s face. Sedart slid down the rock, his mashed face and pierced body leaving a small trail of blood as it went. The Green man stood over Sedart’s body “Bloody sellswords”.
“Uh, a little help over here?” Wang really wanted to get off Sedart’s donkey and tend to his wrists.
The Green man turned “Oh sorry old boy, just respecting ones opponent in death eh?” Signaling, over his shoulder, at Sedart with his sword. The bravado was staged, from the Green man’s face Wang could tell that he hadn’t liked having to kill Sedart.
To be continued?
Wang let out a sigh of disbelief as the giant figure of a fluorescent green dodo filled the doorway of his small shack. He blinked: it disappeared. Like the rest of his family Wang had been exposed to the psychotropic drugs their bodies regularly produced whilst digesting his mother's half-baked schemes. The Planet they were currently on prevented his mother from killing his father by turning all her schemes into edible material which they called Bob. His mother had always wanted to kill his father and the arranged marriage was made so that this could be done legally. Unknown to either’s parents Wang’s dad had acquired a small cage, far to small to fit his wife in but just big enough for her head. Wang’s dad had then produced the cage upon meeting his spouse to be and quickly placed it upon her head, welding it to her earrings with some spare twigs. Wang’s mother then promptly head-butted his father to death.
By a secret process, consisting of a lot of shuffling about in a dark hut by the local Shaman, Wang’s mother was impregnated by the ghost of Wang’s father. Wang’s mother was then shot into space via a great cannon and thus banished from the local economy. She landed on the current planet where Wang now sat. Being slightly crazy, Wang’s mother decided that Wang’s father was still alive and on this planet, this produced the schemes, which produced the food, which allowed her to survive to carry on scheming. By a twist of fate Wang’s father’s ghost had also been fired off into space and landed on the exact same planet on which Wang now sat. The planet’s effects returned Wang’s father to life in the shape of an odd blue creature with a plumed tail and fish like eyes. There seemed to be a daily chase where his mother randomly picked up a kitchen implement and began beating the ground at untimely intervals. Wang’s father would come into the shack from time to time and would babble in some incoherent language translated through effluent and phlegm. Thus Wang’s shack smelt like something quite indescribable.
Wang couldn’t bare to throw any of his fathers letters (which he assumed were addressed to him) away, he would collect those that he found whilst out hiking. His father would leave a quick squiggle here and there, just to let Wang know that he was doing fine and that his mother’s random attacks on the planet’s surface were still as pointless as ever (in short they were evidence that he was still alive and that was all that Wang understood from them).
Wang was still confused about where he had come from, he was bored with simple existence and had set about making a cannon, with which to fire himself into space with. He had decided to build the cannon within the crater his mother had made when she had landed. This, he reasoned, would be roughly the place he should fire from if he ever wanted to get to his home planet. His grandfather had helped him build some of the cannon but the psychotropic drugs became enhanced within his metabolism and over time he began to think that Wang was a herd of giraffes which was hell bent on beating him to death with a coal shovel.
Wang decided to pre-empt the next attack from his grandfather by using his cleverly thought out plan of ‘clocking the old b****** when he wasn’t looking’. This had worked the previous nine thousand and eighty seven times he had decided to use it. Too late! The old git was shifting from side to side already, Wang was surprised to see that his grandfather had taken on the shape of a black and white hippo concertinaed within a concertina. This baffled Wang enough for Wang’s grandfather to utter in a squeaky, croaky voice ‘giraffes’ and ‘jubblies’ before crouching down (as much as a hippo could) and launching himself at Wang. Wang swung his shovel at the black and white mass, there was a loud metallic clang and the satisfying sound of an unconscious hippo landing in dough. Wang hadn’t noticed that pile of dough before and decided it was down to a shift in his perceptions. Yes he could see clearly now the green roof of his shack was covered in soft yellow dough. He tasted some, it was a new sensation for his tastebuds. His mother must have come up with another original scheme to catch his father with something that resulted in death, actually it was much more likely that she had made a new kitchen implement and begun beating the ground with it again. Perhaps she had hit an old patch of Bob with a new implement and that had created a new branch of Bob.
Bob was great. Wang really liked Bob. He and Bob would chat for hours about where Bob had come from and where he was going and likewise about Wang’s past and future. It appeared that Bob was a computer sent to aid his mother, ‘when she landed wherever she landed’, however the planets strange properties had changed Bob into hidden particles. These multiplied within the planet’s atmosphere and were released in certain forms depending on what type of malicious scheme his mother came up with. Bob couldn’t answer everything but he did know more than Wang and that was good enough for Wang.
Bob couldn’t tell Wang what Wang’s name was even though Wang kept on reminding him that his name was Wang. Bob would call him the ‘super ego’ for some reason. Wang didn’t really like this name much but he kept it too himself so as not to confuse Bob. Bob couldn’t tell Wang what his father’s names were but he could tell him that his father had many aliases and that his mother had one name which could never be spoken, written or in any other way communicated. Bob did say that he knew what her name was and suspected this was part of why he had become corrupted beyond the galactic gym. Wang didn’t know what the galactic gym was and neither did Bob, it was just a sentence which Bob knew but couldn’t explain. Bob was also edible as he was formed in that way by the molecules hidden in the atmosphere. Wang would happily chat to and eat Bob at the same time, Wang didn’t feel guilty for this but his grandfather did. Bob was describing the ceiling to himself as he viewed it with a critical red eye. The eye was suspended on a green stalk, which dangled the eye near to the base of the stalk, by a blue piece of string.
‘It’s very green isn’t it?’ Said Bob from some unseen orifice.
‘No’ Said Wang eagerly snapping the green stalk and devouring the eye and blue string in one.
‘Hey, I can see my house from here!’ said Bob. The rooted end of the green stalk thrashed about in the atmosphere then suddenly broke away from it’s doughy base and flew up the left nostril of the hippo. The hippo unconsciously dozed, murmuring ‘jubblies’ and ‘igglephants’ to itself.
“How’re my insides looking today?”
“Yech” came the reply, Bob didn’t know much about how people or machines worked he just knew that they did and that was good enough for Wang. If Bob didn’t know then Wang usually forgot about the question after a while.
‘Nice shovel. Where’d you get it? The get ahead shop?’
Wang groaned and ate a doughy piece of Bob.
“Geddit? The get a-head- shop?” said Bob pleased at his own joke. Wang rolled his eyes and broke off another piece of Bob.
“Bob, why don’t you mind us eating parts of you?” This question was one that didn’t disappear after a while.
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” Said Bob trying to make another joke.
“I don’t know.” Sighed Bob waiting for another bad punchline.
“Exactly.” Said Bob.
“What?”
“I don’t know. It seems to be what I do and that’s what I’m supposed to do”. Another eye complete with string and stalk erupted from some dough on the ceiling.
“Oh” Wang pretended to understand but he actually wasn’t any the wiser. He grabbed some of yellow doughy Bob and threw it at the stalk and string part of Bob on the ceiling. The stalk withdrew before the piece of yellow Bob could hit it.
“Hah! You missed!” Yelled Bob.
Wang scooped up two large handfuls of yellow Bob dough and began to pelt the stalk and
string with it
“Woah!” Said Bob getting pelted by himself.
“Why can’t you do more than what you do?” Wang said, momentarily stopping the onslaught before resuming his target practice.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Said Bob whilst dodging atmosphere-borne pieces of himself with his stalk and string.
“How old am I?” Wang continued throwing some Bob; he was beginning to tire both physically and in enthusiasm, of lobbing pieces of his friend.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice took on a tinny sound but was still friendly. “Hey I can see some really horrible things up that hippo’s nose you know!”
Wang ignored the attempt to sidetrack him “Am I going to die?” He stopped throwing and waited for the answer.
“Unknown” Bob’s voice was still tinny but the friendly lilt was fading and being replaced by a rasping threatening tone. “Bob command 240. Super ego you have not been told about death”. The voice now sounded like it came from down a long series of metallic vents.
“Everyone has limitations kiddo.” Wang mimicked back trying to sound like the friendly Bob and not this dangerous new Bob. Wang wanted to talk to old Bob. Wang waited. Nothing happened for a long time. Then the stalks and strings recoiled in spirals and the yellow doughy Bob was all that was left behind.
“Sorry Bob. I, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Feeling deflated, and clutching his shovel tightly to his chest, Wang curled up next to his hippo grandfather and sadly descended into sleep.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed out of the fluorescent green dodo’s nose. Wang knew he was dreaming but he didn’t want to wake up. He was steering his dream by some-sort of music and it was taking him to strange places. Upon a triple clef sat this fluorescent green dodo which was acting as conductor. Wang realised he was standing on some yellow dough and willed himself to take off into the atmosphere of his dream. He decided he would steal the baton from the green dodo.
He looked around for a good vantage point from which to launch himself at the green bird. His doughy footing was in-fact an island in the middle of an azure sea. The waves seemed to ripple with the movement of the tinkling strands of music, which seemed to emanate from the tip of the bird’s baton. There were no other islands, doughy or otherwise, within the sea.
The music took on physical form as it played from the baton creating a road of concrete notes for the dodo to walk upon. The dodo stood on its triple clef, a road of notes winding away into the distance. It fixed its gaze upon Wang. ‘Unknown’, once again Bob’s voice echoed out of the bird’s nose. Wang’s little island began to sink into the azure sea with alarming rapidity, Wang concentrated hard on getting himself to fly. He began to float upwards. His island disappeared but he was already aloft. Concentrating he flew towards the dodo which began to aim it’s baton towards him. Suddenly there was a thunderous explosion and something very large broke through the water, into the atmosphere and bared down on the dodo from the great height it had obtained, casting a shadow over Wang and the dodo. Sensing the impending danger Wang rushed at the dodo and tried to grab the baton. He missed by inches, his momentum carrying him out of the radius of the great shadow. The large grey shape which now rushed downwards at the dodo was gaining tremendous speed and it’s shadow was getting progressively larger. Wang turned, concentrated and flew further away from the grey mass. There was an almighty crash and a large wave swept Wang further away from the chaos going on behind him. His concentration was broken and he fell into the water and began to gently sink.
Under the sea was an open Nightmare. A black horse suspended upside-down within a giant bubble. It’s torso had been sliced open and it’s intestines and blood were seeping out and running down it’s sides, covering black with a pink-red mush. Wang had seen these creatures in previous dreams but they had always been alive and he had only glimpsed at them before the dream had ended. Perhaps they were the enders of dreams? This one hadn’t the chance to end his dream. It was dead and imprisoned within it’s stationary bubble. Something began to move within the Nightmare’s corpse. From amongst what remained of the Nightmare’s entrails sprouted a green stalk with an eye.
‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice echoed as if from nowhere. Wang decided to swim deeper into the sea, perhaps there would be something less grotesque at the seabed. He heard a cracking and crunching of bones behind him and decided that he would swim faster to escape the frightening sound. A bubble floated by him, it was completely full of a red substance not unlike blood, infact Wang was now sure that it was blood! From inside the bubble he could just make out an eye. ‘Unknown’ Bob’s voice was once again everywhere and nowhere. The surface of the bubble gently dissipated into the azure water, a cloud of red spreading ominously outwards. Wang swam away from this cloud of blood, heading downwards, trying to find the seabed. Why didn’t he need to breathe? It was his dream, but he couldn’t shake the odd feeling that this dream was not real enough to make him wake up. Or was it too real? Normally he would have woken up before thinking of such things and normally he wouldn’t be able to breathe and this would provide the shock that would wake him up. Wang ploughed onwards and downwards into the water. It was getting warmer and the light was getting brighter. In front of him the water was definitely a lighter colour and getting lighter the further downwards he went.
Wang looked behind. He couldn’t make out the cloud of blood and decided it was safe to slow down and approach this lighter water with more caution. It was now bright enough to almost blind him. Where was the source of this light coming from? Suddenly he broke through a barrier and the water stopped. Waste deep in almost clear water Wang’s torso and head were in the breathable atmosphere. His body was trying to breathe this atmosphere again. Spitting out the water from his lungs he looked upwards trying to find the source of light, there wasn't one, it was just there. Wang heard galloping behind him and turned to see a Nightmare galloping towards him across the water. Then he woke up.
“Did you enjoy your sleep young master Zur?”
Wang awoke to an unfamiliar voice, fighting nausea and the smoky air, which now greeted his lungs.
“Zur?” He managed to say through the fit of coughing that had suddenly racked his body.
“Oh pleaze excuze my accent Zur only Oim not geared up to look after the loikes of royalty.”
“Royalty?” Wang looked around. He seemed to be in a dark wooden shack. But it wasn’t his wooden shack. He was lying naked on a pedestal of some-sort and there was a man in a brown cloak, his face obscured by a brown hood.
“Yes Zur.” Said the voice. “Youze is Prince Christian Fusewear. Heir to the throne of Trillathorn and holder of the sacred Siamese scriptures of sustenance.”
“Siamese what?” Wang thought his ears were failing him.
“You cook cats Zur.”
“I what?” His ears were definitely failing him.
“Y’know Zur, ‘Mioaw’ and all that? Oh you cooked up a roight bunch of furballs last time Zur. A veritable feline fricassee, if you don’t mind me saying so, y’r highness.”
Suddenly aware of his nakedness he said, “I’ll thank you to hand me some clothes before you feel the back of a princes hand.” He was trying to play the part of whoever he was supposed to be. This might allow him some time to workout just where the hell he was. The man stood there, obviously puzzled at what the Wang had just said. Wang glared at him.
“Roight away Zur”. The man darted off behind him to a previously unseen door. Wang took the opportunity to get a better look at his surroundings. On the wooden wall to the left of him there were several shelves of dusty bottles, all empty and all arranged neatly into sections according to their colour. In front of him was a wall covered entirely by a giant flag. The flag depicted a scene of a cat being burnt at the stake whilst all around it were humans jeering and holding up pitchforks or other farm tools. Several were straining to hold up a plough, obviously caught up in the tool gathering fervour, perhaps they were simply late or devoid of intelligence and rational thought. At the back of the mob was a man holding up a dog, he could almost hear the artists mind thinking ‘there was always one wasn’t there? One crazy man who would spoil a decent cat burning. Bloody commoners’. Wang turned his attention to the wall on his right. It was covered in dog pelts. Wang looked back at the crazy dog wielding man, he was wearing a brown cloak but his hood was down around his neck. He had a grey beard and long wavy grey hair. Wang looked back at the dog pelts, then back at the crazy man. He put two and two together.
“Oh ****.” He whispered to himself.
“What’s wrong Zur?” The crazy man had remarkable hearing. The crazy man put some clothes at the end of the pedestal. Wang glared at him. “Zur” he said quickly and sank humbly to kneel before Wang.
Wang examined the clothes: they were oddly fashioned. Some were practical and others seemed to be present merely for decoration. He put on a white silk shirt with big, wide sleeves. This fit him perfectly. On top of this he wore a leather jerkin it seemed heavy and he realised that metal plates had been incorporated into the jerkin by placing them in-between the layers of leather. Next on the pile were some princely tights, he threw them away, opting for tough leather trousers which also had metal plates incorporated into their design. He looked like a man you didn’t want to mess with. He chose soft fitting moccasin-type footwear over some metal boots deciding that he would rather flee than fight. Gloves were chosen because of their flexibility and the metal, which was once again subtly present. Sticking out of the pile was a sword, shining with an eerie brilliance in the dark shack. Lastly he chose a metal cap which the crazy man ceremoniously placed upon his head.
“Is that you in that picture?” Wang inquired, pointing to the flag.
“Yes sir, uh Zur that be Oi-”
Wang seized the moment to utter something that had been at the back of his mind. “Drop the accent.”
“What Zur?”
Wang pushed the man against the wall and held the sword to his throat “I said drop the accent. You are not the commoner you claim to be. Speak in your real voice before your prince or I’ll have your head” He was really getting into this now. He could see the man’s face now it was similar to the man in the picture, but it was scarred and hardened by weather, his chin was a different shape, his forehead too high and his hair too short, still grey but a darker grey. His nose looked like it had been broken a few times and his eyes betrayed no signs of madness or fear.
“Corporal Sedart, Elite Guard Sir.” The man was clearly dismayed at the discovery of his deception.
“Why the accent Corporal?”
“With respect Sir, your father gave word that you were not to be allowed to leave the Province of South Trillathorn to escape the marauders of West Trillathorn.”
“And why does he think I’d ever leave the Province of the South?”
“With respect sir we are now in North Trillathorn, and you have already left”.
“Ah.” Wang though for a second. “That is because I was on a secret mission of my own devising to visit and spy on the North to judge for myself whether the Province is sympathetic towards the West” He spat on the ground “or the South.”
In a simultaneous movement Sedart managed to push Wang away from him and bring his knee up sharply to cause Wang to drop his sword and fall to the floor in considerable pain.
“A noble gesture sir, and one which the King would have no doubt appreciated” Sedart said, picking up Wang’s sword and swinging the hilt round so that it struck Wang full in the face. There was a sudden flare of white and pain followed by blackness. Wang could just make out the sound of hands being briefly brushed of dirt before all was silent.
Wang awoke to the searing pain in his nose and lips. He looked about him. Mountains were all around him. The air was sparse and he had to struggle to adjust to it, feeling light headed. He looked down to see the donkey whose saddle his hands were tied to. His wrists were beginning to become raw and bloodied. Water was suddenly poured upon his aching wrists, soothing them and cooling the burning friction of the rope. Sedart was leading the donkey along a rough mountain trail, he turned and offered Wang a sip of the water flask he held out. Wang grudgingly accepted.
“Not so puffed up and prince like now are we? ‘Yur hignez Zur’” Sedart laughed at his own joke. It was a laugh that did not want to be joined by others. It was a laugh of triumph and a laugh that implied a bullying sense of humour. For the first time in his life Wang wanted to kill someone. Wang wanted to kill him. To somehow cause the Donkey to rear or charge and plant a hoof in the skull of Sedart. He gave none of this away and tried to act as civilized as he possibly could with the pain he felt and the indignity of it all.
“So I’m to be taken home to ‘daddy dearest’ am I?”
Sedart burst into another volley of laughter. “No boy!” Another laugh, regaining his breath he said “Do you really think that I, a lowly soldier in the army of the south, should return King Fusewear’s son to him trussed up like a chicken?” Wang said nothing, the question was obviously rhetorical. “I’ve defected boy! I’m joining the marauders! Five years, five whole years I’ve spent in your father’s employ. Five! And not a single commendation or medal, pay rise or bonus, adventure or battle have I had had since I joined. And the women of the south are all dried up old prunes! I’m joining the marauders for a true soldier’s life lad. Rape and pillage, ‘drunken brawls and the ripped up shawls/ of Western w***** taken up against doors/ and paid with the gold of the south/ for the things they do with their mouth!’”
“So I’m to be ransomed am I?”
“Don’t ask me lad, I get paid, what happens to you after that I can only guess at.”
“My father is rich” Wang hoped. “He’ll pay double even triple what the west are paying you.”
“But I need you to join their army lad! They don’t accept any old southern ponce. You have to be a b****** bathed in blood to get employ with the new duke of the West. ‘Oh aye! A b****** bathed in blood do ye be! / A b****** bathed in blood. Do ye see? / A b****** bathed in blood that’s me! / I’m a b****** bathed in blood!’”
“Why did you pretend to be loyal? Why didn’t you just kidnap me straightaway?”
“They wanted me to interrogate you, y’now find out what you knew.
“I know what ‘interrogate’ means you halfwit!” Wang’s assumed character came through again. Sedart stopped, surprised. Looked around with a scowl that would fell a tree. He briskly walked up to Wang and slammed the back of his hand into Wang’s face. Wang tasted blood.
“Now that’s the back of MY hand ‘you hignez Zur’.” He went back to leading the donkey. “Anyway, as I was saying. If you knew nothing of value I was to kill you on the spot-” He looked round again with a grin. “But when you mentioned your mission to the North I knew you would be worth more to me and the duke alive. I’ll probably get a promotion for bring you in my lad”.
“Not so fast their ‘halfwit’.” Came a voice from behind a cluster of rocks. Sedart’s only answer was to unsheathe his sword and stop where he was. “So, the little halfwit has courage. Didn’t your mother tell you it would be the death of you?” There was a sneer of satisfaction conveyed within those words.
“I never knew my mother.” Said Sedart, pausing for effect. “But I knew yours!” Sedart was calm and collected, trying to bait his opposition. Wang had to admire the man’s tenacity against unknown odds and assailants, he still wanted to kill him though.
“Aha!” A man in green velvet jumped out from behind a nearby rock. He leveled a fencing sword across one arm, pointing it at Sedart. “Ready to become a ‘b****** bathed in blood’? Your own of course.”
Sedart passed a knife back to Wang. “Get cutting boy.” He faced the green clothed man. “I am Sedart cleaver of children, cutthroat of wizards and bane to all who cross my path!”
“I am the Green man! Slicer of Sedart’s, Scyther of sellswords and protector of Princes!” Sedart raised an eyebrow then took the knife away from Wang. He threw the knife at the green man. The green man nimbly stepped to the side as the knife flew by. Sedart lunged forward with a sideways arc in an attempt to disembowel the Green man. The Green man dodged and thrust his sword under the collarbone of Sedart. Sedart’s anger forced him onwards, sliding along the fencing sword to grab the green man by the throat and driving him back against a rock. Sedart tried to bring his sword up but his arm would only rise slowly, denying a killing blow. The Green man put a foot against Sedart’s chest and began to push the man away from him. Leaving his sword embedded in Sedart he began to land heavy punches upon the sellsword’s face. There was a crack and Wang knew Sedart’s nose had been broken again. Sedart was still bringing his sword up when the Green man hit Sedart’s nose, a forceful strike with the ball of his hand, and drove the bone up into Sedart’s head. Sedart gasped and in a last effort swung round to support himself on the rock. His grip was gradually released from the Green man’s throat until finally he stood dead against the rock, still clutching his sword, dead eyes staring out at the newly setting sun.
“Aha!” The green man managed to choke. Regaining his breath, he pulled his fencing sword from Sedart’s body and twanged the end of it into Sedart’s face. Sedart slid down the rock, his mashed face and pierced body leaving a small trail of blood as it went. The Green man stood over Sedart’s body “Bloody sellswords”.
“Uh, a little help over here?” Wang really wanted to get off Sedart’s donkey and tend to his wrists.
The Green man turned “Oh sorry old boy, just respecting ones opponent in death eh?” Signaling, over his shoulder, at Sedart with his sword. The bravado was staged, from the Green man’s face Wang could tell that he hadn’t liked having to kill Sedart.
To be continued?
You're trying to do my head in...
Okay, at first I thought it was an episode of SpongeBob written by Salvador Dali. Then when Wang awoke in the cabin it picked up. By the end all I knew is that I needed a lie down.
Okay, at first I thought it was an episode of SpongeBob written by Salvador Dali. Then when Wang awoke in the cabin it picked up. By the end all I knew is that I needed a lie down.
Will read this later but it's massive.