November 21
Word Count: 1881
“What are you doing here, Lynah?” he asked turning to face her. He was almost blinded by her garish pink dress.
“Watching you make a spectacle of yourself, of course. I must say, that’s pretty impressive,” she said pointing towards the maze that more and more people were gathering around.
“How did you get here?” he asked.
“How did you get here? Oh never mind, you probably took a dragon. I got here in a snap.” She snapped her fingers and disappeared. “It’s really very simple,” she said from behind him.
“So Saratin taught you how to do magic?”
“No. Saratin couldn’t teach a tree to stand still. He… oh look! Daddy!” Lynah shouted and ran with her arms out. Her father drew her into a hug.
“It is so good to see you again, my daughter. You are happily married?” he asked, holding her away and taking a good look at her.
“Don’t be silly father, I’m not married and have no intention of being so.”
“What?” he stammered. Her father let her go and stared at Lasser. “I thought you said she was to be married.”
“I didn’t say that. She said that.” Lasser explained.
“If my daughter is not to be married, then there is no need for this silly contest. She will marry Lord Opthal at the party tonight. It will be a wedding feast, and we will appoint him my heir.”
“Lord Opthal did not pass the literacy test. He didn’t even make it into the top fifty.”
“There’s a lot more to being a king that reading and writing,” the king sneered at Lasser.
“I am not going to marry Lord Opthal,” Lynah stated.
“You lost your choice of husband when you went gallivanting about in the forest. You have no choice. Brother Valdin, take her back to her room. I’m sure her wedding clothes are still lying about somewhere. Get her dressed.”
Brother Valdin nodded and grabbed a hold of Lynah’s arm. He promptly fell over and lay stiff on the ground. Lasser bent down to examine the brother. He was cold, but his chest was moving.
“I told you, I am not going to marry Lord Opthal. I am not going to marry anyone.”
“Young lady!” the king shouted. “You undo whatever you did to Valdin, and then you march straight up to mmmm!” The king’s mouth disappeared.
“I will not be shouted at either, even by you, Daddy. When you have learned your lesson, I will put your mouth back on your face,” Lynah said. She turned sharply and walked away.
“Mmmm mmmm mmm!” The king frantically rubbed his face. He turned quite read and his breath came out his nose in heavy panic.
“If you calm down, Your Majesty, I think I can fix it.”
“MMMM!”
Lasser put his hand where the king’s lips should have been and pictured the king’s mouth reappearing on his face.
“That stubborn little brat is no longer my daughter!” The king shouted. He grimaced as he looked down at Brother Valdin at his feet, then he turned back to Lasser. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything to her. She did it all herself. She’s a great mage too, you know.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s a princess. You must make her marry so that she may bring legitimacy to the heir to the throne. The Dorcas legacy must continue.”
“I couldn’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do, even if I tried. And she doesn’t want to be married. She’s still young, and as a great mage, she’ll look young for the rest of her life, which will be a lot longer than any mortal husband you may settle her with.”
The king opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it again. The fact that he was arguing with Lasser at all, admitted to the fact that they stood on equal terms.
“Your Majesty, you need an heir, and I’ve been appointed the task of finding you one. Let me do my job. And I suggest you completely forget trying to control your daughter.”
“You can have my daughter,” King Dorcas said with disgust. A moan emitted from Brother Valdin. “Oh, get up and you’ll be fine,” the king stated as he nudged Valdin with his foot, then strode back towards the castle, leaving a path of bewildered noblemen and peasants in his wake.
“Right.” Lasser said, tugging downward on his cassock, which despite the dust that had risen when he’d sunk the maze, was still sparkling white. “Let’s get this thing going.”
The brothers had rounded up the thirty contestants and they’d drawn numbers to represent their heats. The first three approached the maze. The other contestants were held back to prevent them from having the advantage of watching others navigate ahead of them.
“Here are the rules,” Lasser stated. “Enter the maze down those steps. The first contestant to go out the other end wins the heat and will progress to the next challenge. Be careful. There are obstacles in the maze. There is to be no physical contact between contestants. Anything else goes. Ready? Steady. Go!” Lasser shouted and the first three ran down the steps.
One took an immediate right and ended up knee deep in a pool of muck, the other two quickly tried to make their way through the maze. A chubby man made a narrow escape from some vines that threatened to lash out and wrap their tendrils around their victim. The raven haired lordling reached a dead end and turned back. The chubby man had run straight into a pack of small imps that clung to his legs, squeaking curses at him in high pitched voices. The lordling sucker punched a dwarf with an axe, and ran quickly to the last fork of the maze. After a lucky guess, he headed down the final corridor that led to the stairs out.
The imps immediately let go of their hapless victim, and the pond of muck became as clear as water. The two men quickly made their way out of the maze, following the lights that appeared before them.
The viewers were delighted. In fact, they began to place bets. Some enterprising businessmen wheeled in carts of food and snacks to sell. The other nine heats were loudly cheered and commented upon. It was turning in to quite a party. They seemed reluctant to end when the final heat was won by a short brunette in a light blue dress.
Brother Weelkes approached Lasser as he prepared to raise the maze and turn the royal lawn back into a field.
“Master Lasser, there have been a few requests for others to compete their way through the maze. They understand they won’t be in the running for heir or anything like that, but they seem to think it would be great fun.”
Before Lasser could respond, Lynah replied from behind him, “I’d give them permission and avoid a rather acute embarrassment when you can’t fix it.”
“You don’t think I can raise it?” Lasser turned to Lynah who was casually inspecting her fingernails.
“I know so. The magic is still limited. It hasn’t fully returned. Ergo, we can only do so much before we run out for the day. The only thing that will allow you to fix this mess is time.”
“And where did you learn this?” Lasser asked. Lynah simply smiled at him and disappeared.
“Right.” Lasser said turning back to Weelkes. “I’ll leave the maze as long as people wish to challenge it. Tell the semifinalists that they need to get a good night’s sleep. The second challenge will begin tomorrow at dawn.” Brother Welkes nodded and went to spread the news.
It had been a very productive day, Lasser had decided. The morning seemed like years ago rather than hours, and everything seemed to moving along quite nicely. Tomorrow he would narrow down the field to three, and by that evening, they would have an heir. Quest building wasn’t all that difficult… except, Lasser noted to himself as he headed back to his room, he had completely changed his mind about his original plan. If they thought the maze was entertaining, they should wait to see what he had in store.
The last thing Malek remembered was hearing Trevelyn and Mitty discussing him like he wasn’t even in the room. When he managed to open his eyes, which was quite a bit later, he supposed, due to the splitting pain in his skull, both of the girls had abandoned him. Obviously they weren’t that worried about him. At least he didn’t have to carry on a conversation, which seemed an impossible task when his head was swirling the way it was, but he would have definitely appreciated a cold cloth or some wifely comfort or concern.
Pain, pain go away, come again some other day. Eerily it did. Malek sat up, then promptly leaned over the bed and threw up. The pain had gone away, but the nausea was still quite overwhelming. Malek laid back down on the bed. Now he had a nasty taste in his mouth and a sick stomach. Where was Mitty?
“Mitty?” he called out. No one answered. “Dammit, come here,” he said. Within the blink of an eye, a startled Mitty was staring down at him with a jar of cream in her hand. Finally. “I don’t feel so good,” he complained.
“You’re awake!” she shouted. She lowered down to kiss him, but he quickly put a hand over her mouth.
“I threw up,” Malek stated. Mitty peered over the edge of the bed.
“Oh.” She scooted off the other side of the bed and went in search of some towels. She came back with her hands full and began to clean up his mess. She paused half way through. “Malek. You did magic.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t do magic.”
“Then how did I get here from the infirmary?”
“You heard me call.”
“No. I didn’t know you were awake. I went to the infirmary to help Trevelyn and suddenly I was here. You did magic.”
“No I didn’t,” he stated emphatically. “And don’t argue with me when I don’t feel well.”
Mitty flashed him a knowing smile. She obviously planned to humor him. “All right then.” She finished cleaning up the mess and planted a kiss on his forehead.
“I told you, she just disappeared!” Trevelyn said from the other side of the room. Malek swiveled his head to see Saratin and Trevelyn staring at him and Mitty.”
“You’re awake,” they said simultaneously.
“Can’t a man take a nap without the whole city knowing about it?”
“When no one can wake you from the nap, and it lasts for more than eight hours, then no,” Saratin stated, crossing his arms across his chest. He did have a smile on his face for all his stern attitude.
“I thought you’d disappeared, like Lynah,” Trevelyn said to Mitty. “I was worried.”
“I’m fine. Malek did magic!” she stated proudly, “and I didn’t even teach him.”
“I said I didn’t do any…” Malek stopped halfway through his sentence as he realized there was something else in his head.