THREE

Witches Be Crazy

After the event had finished, Dungar wasted no time ushering the crowd that had formed in his bar out the door. It was rather uncanny how they seemed to have advanced warning every time he was to throw somebody out the window and would always gather to watch the spectacle. However after the first few times his amazement began to wear off and he simply resigned himself to his audience.

Unlike his many previous victims, this patron was no ordinary troublemaker and that was what worried him. Their conversation had transcended beyond typical bar chat and Dungar was compelled to get to the bottom of his claims one way or another. Quickly as his stubby legs could take him, he strode out the back door past the forge and into the field where Stranger now lay.

“Stranger. Stranger. Wake up.”

Stranger opened his eyes to reveal the big blue ones of Dungar staring back with a look of judgment.

“You’re fine. Get up.” He asserted as he picked Stranger off the ground. “We need to talk.”

“You threw me out a window …” Stranger grumbled, still adjusting to consciousness.

“Don’t worry, nothing is broken. And you were being a jackass anyway.” The blacksmith dismissed. “Besides, nothing sobers you up faster than fear.”

Still carrying Stranger, he strolled back to the bar and casually dropped him back into his stool beside Jitters, who had been regularly sipping at his long empty tankard the entire time. Snatching Jitters’ mug for a refill, Dungar addressed Stranger again.

“So what is going on in Jenair?”

Stranger gaped at him, incredulous towards his nonchalance. “You threw me out a window!”

“I also let you back in afterwards, and that’s unprecedented. Have some scotch and you’ll feel fine. Now I won’t ask you again. What happened to King Ik?”

Stranger sighed as he accepted the whiskey. “It happened a few months ago …” Stranger began, as he proceeded to recount the story of the fall of Farrawee. The tale goes something like this:

In a land fairly close by lay Jenair’s sister kingdom of Farrawee. Like most entitled younger siblings, it tended to rip off the things its older siblings did, and as such also senselessly named its capital the same name as the kingdom itself. Farrawee’s capital city of Farrawee was presided over by a charming, handsome, and truly benevolent king. To those who could overlook the fact that he was an unabashed manwhore, he was the perfect ruler. He was incredibly fond of the ladies of his kingdom, and the ladies of his kingdom were incredibly fond of his money, and permissive of his bedroom skills. His marriage to the queen of his fair kingdom was never negatively affected by his infidelity either because the queen was blessed with the mindset of being totally into that sort of thing.

One day while the king was making his rounds through the kingdom looking for his next plaything he came across the most exquisite creature. She had spectacular golden hair stretching down to the small of her back, smoother than silk and reflected light so brilliantly it was amazing she didn’t start fires everywhere she went. Her eyes cast an enveloping feeling of warmth upon you as they sparkled in the afternoon sunshine more dazzling than the most perfectly cut aquamarine crystal; and her lips and body perfectly conveyed to the king the notion that she was a healthy and viable individual with which to conduct reproduction activities. Needless to say, the king wasted no time before picking her up and whisking her away to the chamber of unspeakable happenings within his castle.

Unbeknownst to the king, this fraternization fuelled a fiendish fate for his city. The following morning she was not dismissed with the usual fruit basket and slap on the ass, but was rather escorted in a tour around the castle privately led by the king himself. She was treated to banquets and tournaments as the king’s special guest, and was quickly welcomed as a permanent resident into the castle. Much speculation was had as to exactly what she was doing to the king, but the results were indisputable. The king thoroughly besotted. When the king was completely wrapped around her fingers the drama would really begin.

The first step down the kingdom’s road to ruin came when the king had a very public and messy divorce with the queen followed by a hasty drive-thru wedding where leech and lecher tied the knot. In addition to being stripped of all her royal ties, the former queen was also inexplicably banished from the kingdom. But even more suspicious than her nonsensical banishment was the fact she had disappeared without a trace and even those most loyal to her were unable to locate her.

Only after she had firmly become the only woman in the king’s life did the new queen’s true colors begin to show through. She hoarded extravagant treasures, exclusively ate exotic and expensive foods, and regularly staged festivals; none of these things could have ever been afforded if she had not hiked the taxes up to extortionate levels.

During all of this turmoil the king, who up until this point had been a truly benevolent and caring monarch, remained uncharacteristically apathetic and dejected. The mysterious woman began to seize more and more kingdom control from him until eventually he had relinquished nearly all his power.

Over time the kingdom gradually began to buckle under this new regime, and talk of revolt began to circulate the streets. At the first hint of it, the queen enacted martial law. Peasants and general lower class individuals began to be swept off the streets in droves and made to disappear. After capture, one’s death was all but certain; but it always took place inside the castle away from the eyes of the masses. During all of this time, the gates were barred and under constant watch. No one was permitted to leave; only to suffer and stand helplessly by as their fair kingdom collapsed around them.

Finally came the most fateful day of them all. The remaining citizens who still drew breath cowered within the decrepit walls of what remained of their homes when they heard the marching of a thousand feet. The entire king’s guard patrolled the streets, searching every building for whoever would dwell within. Men women and children were torn from their homes and herded towards the castle where the mysterious woman and her pet king lay within. As per their orders, the guards ensured that every last soul within that city was herded into the bowels of the castle. However, after the doors closed behind them, not a single person emerged from that intricate pile of stones ever again. No peasant, guard, whore, noble, king, nor even the mysterious woman herself have been seen since.

By the time Stranger had finished even Jitters appeared to have been absorbed by his story.

“How did you escape?” Asked an unfamiliar voice.

Everyone turned to see a little old man had entered the room during the story without anyone noticing.

“Oi!” Dungar bellowed. “Buy a drink, buy a room, or get out!”

“B-But I’ve already bought a room.” The old man stammered.

“Then go to it!” Dungar ordered.

Muttering something about poor customer service, the man departed. When he had cleared the room, Dungar turned back to Stranger.

“I remember him.” Dungar chuckled. “Chauffeur by trade. Nice guy. He did have a point though, if everyone disappeared to never be seen again then how are you here to tell me all this?”

“I managed to leap from a window of my bedroom shortly before the guards stormed my house.”

“Ohhhhh. It all makes sense now.”

Stranger cocked his head to the side, looking at him confusedly.

“Well that’s clearly why you’re so terrified of being thrown out windows.”

At a loss for words, Stranger just gaped at him.

Slamming his hand on the table, Dungar began to cackle a deep throaty laugh. “Ah lighten up! I’m just kiddin’ ya!”

Seeing that the man was clearly not amused, he continued his inquiry. “So before I threw you out the window you were saying the same thing that did in your king was coming here.”

Stranger snorted loudly at the notion. “Coming here? She’s already here, you oaf. I’ve heard the talk of your king’s new ‘daughter,’ strange how she fits the exact description of my former queen.”

“Oh is that right.” The innkeeper responded with only slight interest, peering into Jitters’s mug. “So is that why you’re here then? Some good old fashioned revenge?”

“Nothing of the sort!” His guest huffed sanctimoniously. “Now that she has made her way here I’m headed eastward to Nonamay. You lot would be wise to do the same. It’s the only way to temporarily escape your doom!”

Dungar’s blissful mood evaporated immediately at this, partially because he’d rather die than go to Nonamay, but mostly due to the other implications. “You mean to tell me that you are the only one aware of a force that means to see us all destroyed, and you are going to simply carry on your way without so much as a warning?”

“Consider this your warning.” Stranger scoffed, draining the contents of his tankard. “I already tried waiting around to see how things turned out and I nearly paid for it with my own life, and missed out on getting to drink this rotgut oil you serve. You lot are responsible for yourselves, my hide is more important to me than yours.”

Without even a pause he got up to leave, but did not manage to make it far before he felt the familiar iron-grip of Dungar’s hairy bicep and forearm wrapped around him. The blacksmith was pretty quick for his size.

“Well I’ll be.” Stranger heard the bearded man growl into his ear. Although he couldn’t see them, he could feel the crazy eyes boring holes into his skull. “I don’t reckon we’ve ever had the same man volunteer for the window twice in one night.”

This time Stranger hardly struggled as he was hauled up the stairs.

“I am not the one who seeks to do you harm, innkeeper.” Stranger tried to reason.

“Perhaps not.” Dungar acknowledged as he placed Stranger before the familiar window frame which now overlooked the same landscape as before only this time under a blanket of the darkness of the night.

“But you are fine to just walk away without even trying to prevent countless others from facing the fate you yourself barely escaped. That makes me not very fond of you, and this is what I do to people I’m not very fond of.”

Without missing a beat, Dungar then drove his heel into the cloaked man’s midsection, propelling him a good five or six feet horizontally ass-first out the window before falling to the ground below and producing the satisfactory “Thud” that Dungar had come to grow very fond of over the last few years. He paused briefly to catch any last words that may be called out, but none came. As he made his way back down the stairs he surmised the man had likely been knocked out cold.

Upon returning to the bar, Dungar couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt for his newly departed patron.

“Don’t suppose you think I was a bit rough on him?” He asked Jitters.

For the first time since Stranger had arrived, Jitters looked up from his mug and into Dungar’s eyes. His tremors had noticeably diminished now that Stranger had been removed from his side.

“Ah you’re right.” Dungar rationalized, shaking his head. “That man was nothing but trouble. Likely wasn’t even speaking the truth.”

But as he did his nightly rounds clearing the clutter, he couldn’t shake the conversation that had just transpired. After all, the king’s health was never spotty before the arrival of this princess. He also had to consider the fact that no one was even aware of her existence before now. No matter which way he looked at it, considering Stranger’s story or not, the situation was certainly suspicious.

“I hate to say it, Mr. Jitters, but we’ve got ourselves a problem.” Dungar mused.

When he turned to face the old man he found the seat to be empty, Jitters having silently got up and left for the night.

“Boy he’s a quiet old bugger.” Dungar soliloquized. “But I suppose his days are numbered no matter what danger is lurking up north. It’s the rest of us that need worry about it.”