Treachery of Kings

THIRTY-SIX

If it hadn't been for the lords, the strumpets, the cowards in colorful array, Finn was near certain the Bowsers would have quickly won the day. As it was, this frantic herd of flunkies, stooges, leeches and fools, fled in such mad disorder, they upended friend and foe alike.

The Badgies, then, won a moment of respite, a moment to bring their ranks to order, to form the famous Badgie Square. The Bowsers threw themselves at the solid block of the King's Third Sentient Guards, and found themselves in trouble from the start.

In spite of his contempt for the sullen Maddigern, Finn found himself cheering for the Badgie and his brave cohorts. Every time the yappers assaulted the green-cloaked warriors, they came up against an unyielding wall.

Some, wiser than their fellows, chose to save their necks, avoid the killer square, and go after easy game- counselors, servants and such, running about like witless barnyard fowl.

A portly duke stumbled by, a lass of lesser rank clinging to his back. Merchants, pages and varied parasites fought each other to escape the barking foes.

“I fear there's no way I can stay out of this,” Finn muttered, “unless it be in shame. Damn it all, Julia, don't any of these louts know how to fight back?”

“They hire people for that. It gives the poor something to do. I suppose you could say there's some good in that.”

“I'm afraid I don't agree at all. You there, stop that, get away from him!”

A stout Bowser halted in his tracks, startled to find Finn in his path. A chamberlain in crimson cowered beneath the Bowser's blade.

“You be mezzin’ mit me, hooman perzon. Don’ be doin’ zhat.”

“I think your burgundy vest is ugly. It doesn't go with the tie. Those straws you fellows wear went out of style thirty years ago.”

The Bowser wrinkled his puggy nose. Without another glance at his victim, he came at Finn, swinging his blade in both hands.

Finn reached for his own blade, and recalled with some dismay that he only had Koodigern's dagger, a weapon considerably shorter than a sword.

The Bowser's eyes gleamed. Fun was only seconds away.

“Julia,” Finn said, as calmly as the moment would allow, “I could use some help here.”

“You're always polite when cornered,” Julia said. “Don't think I haven't noticed that.”

The Bowser hesitated, looked down and stared, astonished to see something gold and scaly streaking right at him, something awful, something talking, words coming out its silver snout.

The Bowser shrieked, shouted, scrambled away as the thing crawled swiftly up his leg, digging with its claws, snapping with its teeth, leaving bloody tears along the way.

The frightened raider dropped his blade, stumbled back, slapped at his trousers as if he'd been ravaged by ants. Julia leaped free, a blue bow tie entangled in her teeth.

The Bowser sprawled on his back, cursed, came to his feet, bent to grab his blade, then rushed at Finn with a will. From the corner of his eye, he saw a shiny blur coming at him with a whisper and a whine. He ducked, too late, and the thing struck him hard across the chest, spilling him to the ground.

He came to his knees, not so quickly this time. Once more, Finn swung the King's deadly decoration in a wide, whistling loop, once above his head, and then again. The gold-chained, gem-encrusted Ninety-Fifth Order struck the Bowser a solid, bone-crunching blow, a blow that would have felled a large tree.

“I only meant to put him down,” Finn said, shaking his head with some regret. “I wasn't looking for a terminal effect.”

“He was, Finn. You might recall from another encounter, these rogues enjoy their work. He'd gladly do the same to you.”

“True enough. And there's no reason we shouldn't bring ourselves down to their level, if they intend to act like this… “

Finn had no time to finish. Two Bowsers broke from the fray and came at him on the run. One was a big, heavyset fellow with a shaggy face and sad, droopy eyes. The other was short and intense. Of all the Bowser folk, Finn disliked the wiry, nervous yappers most of all.

“All right,” he muttered under his breath, “have at it if you must.”

The larger raider stomped in with no finesse at all. He raised his blade and hacked at Finn with all his might. Finn took a quick step back. The Bowser's blade struck the hard granite floor and shattered like glass. The sad-eyed fellow blinked in surprise, then howled as his arms went numb.

Finn swung the lethal decoration over his shoulder, but his foe turned and fled.

“Wake up,” Julia said. “On your right!”

The smaller warrior was circling Finn, baring his teeth, cursing in the raspy, irritating tongue the Bowsers called their own. Julia tried to head the wretch off, but Bowsers of this type were quite hard to catch.

Finn whipped his heavy chain at the snapper, much like an angler after a wily trout. The Bowser hopped lightly aside, went to his knees, and hurled his dagger at Finn.

Finn nearly moved too late. The Bowser was quick, and the weapon whined past Finn's head only inches away. Determined not to quit, the Bowser drew another blade, intent on hurling it on its way.

Finn didn't have to duck. Julia Jessica Slagg sank her teeth into the fellow's ankle, slamming him to the floor. The Bowser yapped in pain. Julia munched, Julia crunched, then flung her head back and let her prey go. The Bowser wasted no time, hopping off as quickly as he could.

Finn waited, holding his heavy weapon at the ready, determined he would not be taken unawares again. Though he'd scarcely noticed, the Great Hall had gone suddenly quiet. Courtiers were huddled together in tight, terrified knots of henna, crimson, and blush. Two appeared to be dead. Finn counted eleven Bowsers as well, besides the pair he and Julia had downed themselves.

He didn't think it likely a single Bowser had gotten away, or that any the Badgies had taken were still alive. Mercy wasn't in these brutal fellows’ style.

One Badgie had a limp, but the others had apparently come through the fight without a scratch.

“Over there,” Julia said, and Finn followed the lizard's glance. The door to the Royal Family's anteroom was open, now, and Maddigern was there, in earnest conversation with the King. Other members of the family milled about, nervous and intent, disturbed by the recent events Finn's pulse quickened, for there was DeFloraine-Marie, close to her father's side. And, as he watched, for he found it hard to look away, he saw the girl shift her glance from the King to Maddigern himself. It was only for an instant, and was likely of no import at all. Still, it was a moment that stuck in Finn's mind, though he couldn't say why.

He turned, then, as Dostagio entered the Great Hall, with eight more servants in the harsh black livery of the Gracious Dead. Dostagio noted the King and his family, but gave them no mind. In a moment, he had given terse directions to his crew, who quickly began to sweep the room with wide bristly brooms.

A squad of Badgies led the surviving courtiers past the ruins of the door where the Bowsers had burst in. Others emptied the room of bodies and marched away.

In the center of the room was a small pile of straw boater hats, some badly bent, very few intact. There were a number of monocles and varicolored bow ties among the litter that was soon scooped up and carried away.

The room was nearly empty, and Finn felt foolish watching Maddigern, the King, and the rest of the royals mill about. The princess had left, or had stepped out of sight.

To his great regret, he had lingered too long, for Maddigern seemed to notice he was there. With a bow to the King, he turned and marched in a soldierly manner toward Finn.

“Well, you survived, I see,” the Badgie said, as if he'd swallowed something bad. “Took on a pair of the rascals yourself, I understand.”

“We were here. We felt compelled to act in our defense.”

“With that.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You used the King's decoration as a weapon. You assaulted these foul, dirty beasts with His Grace's award. You tainted the honor of Llowenkeef-Grymm.”

“Well, I suppose I did,” Finn said, too irritated with the sour-faced warrior to greatly care what he said.

“You want to stand there and scowl, fellow, it makes no matter to me. I don't think the King will hang me, and neither do you. Now, if you'll stop this nonsense and move aside, I'll get back to my room.”

“To the Mycer girl, you mean.”

Finn looked the Badgie straight in the eye. “Yes. That's who I mean. And we don't call Newlies beasts. That's not what they are anymore. And if they were, what are you?”

The Badgie smiled, though it was not the sort of smile that Finn took to heart. “I am not authorized to maim, cut or decimate your person in any manner now. But that could surely change.”

“I am a Grand Master of the Ninety-Fifth Order. What are you?”

“The King's Third Sentient Guards work for honor. We don't need your filthy medals.”

“Come along, Julia,” Finn said. “Captain/Major Maddigern has better things to do…”