Questing Sucks! Book II (8 page)

“As the Elven Princess, do you acknowledge this claim to be true?” he asked.

Princess Saerina answered without any hesitation. “I do.”

Sehn expected some form of argument or protest, but without even the slightest delay, the lords grumbled their acceptance in unison. Patrick leaned over in the chair next to Sehn and whispered in his ear.

“
These aren’t the types of men you’re used to
,
Sehn
.
When they enter a meeting
,
they leave their pride and personal interests at the door
.
They’re here as representatives to their cities and their kingdom
,
much as you are
.
Nothing else matters to them
.
”

Sehn fought against every basic instinct he’d ever had and bowed his head before actually thanking the assembled lords for their dutiful acknowledgement. It disgusted him, but Sehn decided he’d tax himself for the show of weakness later. For now, though, he was far too concerned about his home to care.

“Please repeat what you said before.” The word ‘please’ burned the end of Sehn’s tongue like hot coals, as did the look of pride Saerina beamed his way.

“Ah, yes, of course,” Lord Brightingham said. “Essentially, for a reason we cannot discern, the enemy is moving on your city, Lord Elf. We’re not positive as to why, but we believe that, in light of Patrick’s heavy resistance to their advancements, they’ve decided to move in the direction of the elven capital. The decision is a wise one, tactically speaking. If the enemy does not capture Elvar, then eleven reinforcements will continue to assault their rear flank the rest of the way to the capital. What we don’t know is why they’re so interested in going there.”

Saerina spoke next. “I believe you know why, my good lords. Patrick and I have already exchanged secrets on that matter.”

Lord Alex gave Patrick a cautious stare, and Patrick nodded.

“So,” Lord Alex said, “you know that the Kingdom possesses an Item in our capital?”

“I do,” Saerina answered. “Just as you know the elven capital houses the very same.”

The eight lords leaned back in their chairs and whispered among themselves for a moment. Then, Lord Ramont said, “It is the opinion of those gathered here that Patrick’s bravery in driving the enemy off resulted in a change of the Hawk’s target. They tested our ability to withstand an attack, and we must have proven too great a risk.”

Sehn, unable to keep quiet any longer, shouted out, “So then what are we waiting for? We need to ride for Elvar at once! It’s obvious they’re only attacking Elvar as a direct insult to their God-King.” Once more banging his fist against the table, Sehn shouted out his anger. “How fucking
dare
someone declare war on the Great Sehn’s one-bedroom apartment!”

He clasped a hand to his mouth to stop himself from making things worse, but fortunately, not a single lord seemed to pay it any mind. It appeared Patrick had spoken the truth when he said the lords cared little for anything aside from addressing the matters at hand.

“Allow me to offer both of you my sincerest apologies,” Lord Brightingham said, addressing Sehn and Princess Saerina. “But the fact of the matter is that with one of our own cities having just been attacked, we cannot pull our men from the lines. We need to patrol our own territory and keep our lands safe before committing any sizeable force in defense of a foreign realm.”

Saerina inclined her head so that she looked down her nose at the lords. “Did my brother not come to the Kingdom’s aid when Hahl was attacked? Many of my elves lost their lives here.”

“And the Kingdom is forever gracious for your efforts,” Lord Ramont answered, in place of Lord Brightingham. “In fact, we’ve sent over two-thousand troops towards Elvar to aid in its defense, which we believe to be nearly double the number that aided the Kingdom here in Hahl. Quite generous, no?”

Patrick’s lips tightened in irritation. “Let’s not pretend to be stupid. We all know that the enemy will march on Elvar with close to a hundred-thousand troops. We need to combine every human and elf we’ve got to stand a chance of repelling them.”

Again Lord Brightingham closed his eyes and nodded in what was obviously fake sympathy. “I’m afraid we’ve already voted without you on this one, Patrick. The decision was unanimous, so your one vote cannot overrule us. The Kingdom is being very generous in sparing two-thousand soldiers in what you have just admitted to be an obviously lost cause.”

“So then what did you come here for?” Patrick shouted. His lack of control surprised Sehn. Of all present, Sehn had expected Patrick to be the last to lose control of his temper. “Tell me?” he demanded. “Did you come all this way just to bring me useless news that I didn’t want to hear?”

“Actually, no,” Lord Alex said. He reached into his robe and removed a sealed envelope with a red stamp, tossing it over the table at Patrick. “This is a summons from your father, the king. Feel free to read it at your leisure, but allow me to summarize. Patrick, he is both honored and proud of you for your victorious battle with the enemy. However, now that we’re in a time of war, you need to stop whatever foolish thing you’re doing and reassemble Hahl’s army. You’re to be a part of this campaign.”

“This is an outrage!” Patrick yelled.

Sehn remained silent during the exchange. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t. Shock and confusion spread over him like a blanket. Despite everything that’d happened, despite every horrible experience since leaving home, Sehn had always thought of the events as distant. As if by leaving Elvar, he had entered a new world, one where people could die and have their homes burned without any justifiable reason. Yet he took comfort in the idea that it was all faraway and alien: a problem for distant people from distant lands. But now that very same terror would be inflicted on his home? It was beyond his ability to imagine; Elvar, the most beautiful, peaceful city in the world—no one would attack it. They couldn’t. To make it all worse, Sehn knew what those black-armored men did to the unfortunate villages that lay in their path, and he knew what fate would await Elvar if he didn’t intervene.

“My lords,” Saerina said. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generous offerings to Elvar. It seems you have much to discuss with the good Prince Patrick. With your blessings, I’d like to take my subject and leave.”

Lord Ramont, who at the time was engaged in a verbal sparring match with Patrick, nodded dismissively at Saerina while appearing to keep his attention diverted on the outraged prince. Saerina tugged on Sehn’s arm, and he allowed himself to be led out of the room. The last thing he saw before exiting was a growling Patrick, yelling so fiercely at the other lords that spittle flew from his mouth.

It was a hot day in Hahl, but as Sehn stepped back out into the open, he shivered and felt an uncontrollable urge to vomit. “Did you hear what they said, Saerina?” he whispered. “Did you hear…?”

“I did, Sehn.”

“Elvar…they’re going to destroy Elvar.”

“Not if we can stop them.”

Sehn looked into Saerina’s red eyes. “How?”

“Do you remember what I told you yesterday? About rescuing the mage-boy?”

Sehn blinked a few times, frustrated, struggling to pull up the memory. “Something about saving him for some reason.”

“Let me put this simply for you, Sehn, because I know you hate complicated explanations.”

Saerina pointed up towards the sky. “The men who want to destroy your home are doing so because their king has been slain and the only remaining heir is being held in captivity, or so the Drashians believe. The boy we wish to rescue, Kellar, is the firstborn of King Raygor, and from what I understand, he has no idea that the men behind the black-armored helmets were his own people. If we can rescue him, tell him the truth, and recruit him to our cause, then we can—”

“You know what?” Sehn interrupted. “Fuck the explanation! I don’t care what it is as long as it works.” Sehn craned his neck and looked up and beyond the clouds, to where the legendary city of Magia was rumored to exist. “I AM COMING FOR YOU SKY-BITCHES!” he roared. “HOW DARE YOU…HOW DARE, UMM, WHATEVER ROLE IT IS YOU PLAY IN THIS, HOW DARE YOU DO THAT!”

Sehn laughed hatefully at whatever beings resided up in the clouds. For the first time in weeks, he felt like his old self. Even the pain in his body seemed to fade. He burned with energy at the thought of his home destroyed by the animals who’d thrashed the villages around Hahl. Someone out there had just made a big, big mistake.

Sehn nearly jumped for joy as he spotted Cah’lia strolling through Hahl’s inner city with Rina, Nero, and the Champion. Rina, sitting atop the Champion’s shoulders, waved at Sehn through the crowd of citizens that had formed on the narrow street. After Patrick’s assurances of their safety, the people of Hahl had returned to the city first in a trickle, and then later in a flood. Once Sehn and Saerina had parted ways, the only thought in Sehn’s mind had been finding Cah’lia.

“Sehn!” Rina squeaked, flailing her arms from the top of Sehn’s minion-turned-mount. “Over here!”

Rina’s shouts drew not only Sehn’s attention, but also the people around her. At the sound of her voice, the crowded street broke out into whispers, and many looked around, asking one another if the little girl had just spoken the ‘hero’s name.’ A meat merchant selling sliced cubes of chicken on a stick paused from negotiating with a scrawny customer, and the two turned to look at Sehn.

“It’s him!” the scrawny man shouted. “I recognize him from the paintings!”

One by one, the curious residents of Hahl approached, and Sehn bubbled with excitement as he attempted to shove all the annoying people out of his way. For some reason, they wouldn’t budge. No matter how hard Sehn struggled against them, he couldn’t manage to get the pesky citizens to leave him alone. Instead, Sehn was forced to remain still and listen while complete strangers showered him with praise. Word had spread rapidly from solider to soldier about Sehn, the elf who many credited with saving Hahl, so it didn’t take long for the citizens to catch wind of the news.

Now, as Sehn desperately tried to maneuver around the swarms of people both young and old encircling him, he failed repeatedly to break through. Sehn had no desire whatsoever to hear a bunch of morons tell him how awesome he was.

Each time Sehn saw an opening, he took a few steps in its direction, but he wasn’t fast enough. Before Sehn could slip through, even more people would arrive and plug the gap, and Sehn’s legs weren’t moving fast enough, because…because he had that common cold thing, which forced him to walk extra slow. It was
definitely
not because he wanted to hang around and be smothered with undying praise. It was true! Why would the Great Sehn care if a bunch of peasants wanted to worship him? Unfortunately, with no way of getting around the excited crowd, Sehn realized he had no choice but to endure it.

“Ah well,” he mumbled aloud. “I guess I’ll just have to force myself to listen to their praise and sign autographs…for a small fee, of course.”

A small boy stepped forward, holding a drawing depicting Sehn fighting off hordes of enemy soldiers. None knew the true nature of the Champion—Patrick had threatened those with the knowledge under pain of death should they spill the secret—but word of Sehn’s use of the feared Cockalith had spread rapidly. The illustration in the boy’s hands was of Sehn riding the legendary beast while holding a sword of flame into the air. Hundreds of dead, black-armored soldiers littered the battleground.

“A-are you S-Sehn, the elf?” the boy stammered. “The r-real Sehn?”

Sehn sighed dramatically. “Oh, drat! You’ve caught me, child. Yes, yes, it is I, the humble Sehn, bringer of peace and tranquility to the, umm, Kingdom of…the Kingdom of…” Sehn cursed in his mind. He could never remember the name of the damn Kingdom. What was this stupid place called again?

“The Kingdom of the Seven…
Pi-lah-lah-lahmph
,” Sehn finished, mumbling the last word in a low enough voice so that no one would be able to tell for sure if he’d gotten it wrong.

The crowd seemed to eat it up, gasping in awe. They “ooh’d” and “ah’d,” murmuring excitedly to one another. An old woman, a farmer by the look of her overalls and brimmed hat, joined the small boy and bowed before Sehn. “You be a hero, me Good elf.”

Sehn waved a hand at the woman. Closing his eyes with a slow, theatrical grace, he tilted up his head and looked to the sky.

“No,” he whispered, low enough to remain mysterious but loud enough for all to hear. “I am no hero. For in war, there are no heroes. There are only the men who fight and die for what they believe in. I am just a poor soul who has sacrificed for what he knows is right—the safety and freedom of all Kingdom citizens.”

Sehn concealed a grin as the crowd erupted in applause and shouts of praise. It put him in such a good mood that not even Cah’lia, who scowled at him from the edge of the crowd, could ruin his merriment.

Sehn clapped his hands. “If you’d all please form a line, everyone can receive a signed drawing from
I
, the humble and generous Sehn, for but a small donation, which I shall only use to feed starving puppies.”

The citizens were more than happy to pay for Sehn’s autograph, and by the time the last of his admirers had dispersed, Sehn’s coin purse had fattened by an additional thirty golden coins, more than double what Patrick had given him in return for his cooperation with the Kingdom’s lords.

With the street mostly cleared save for those on business, Sehn was left alone with Cah’lia, the Champion, and the kids. He grinned at her and pointed to his money pouch. “Cah’lia, look at how much I made! We shall spend it frivolously!”

Cah’lia didn’t seem to care. “Come on, Sehn,” she said. “We need to get out of here before another mob comes along, and we don’t have time for another one of your…whatever this was. Sehn, there’s something you really need to see, but first we need to talk.”

With that, Cah’lia rudely grabbed Sehn’s arm and dragged him off. She led him into a nearby alley. A silver and black awning partially concealed the entrance, which sat in the gap between an inn and a cloth merchant’s shop. She paused at the entrance and asked the Champion to watch the children just outside, and to Sehn’s horror, the Champion obeyed without first asking Sehn’s permission.

What in my holy name is that all about
?
How dare my minion do something without my asking
?

Cah’lia was even more uptight than usual, so Sehn gave in to her urgency and followed her through the alley. She darted her eyes left and right, scanning the small pathway and the rooftops, likely searching for any eavesdroppers. When she finished, she let her guard down and sighed.

“I heard you were in a closed meeting with Prince Patrick and the other lords,” she said. “What happened?”

Sehn’s excitement returned in a rush. “Cah’lia, you wouldn’t believe what I’ve done. I
did
politics!”

“You…‘did’ politics? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sehn spat out the words so fast that by the time he’d gotten to the important bit about Elvar, he could see from Cah’lia’s blank expression that she was confused. He forced himself to slow down and begin again. This time, he made it as far as his introduction to the lords, before Cah’lia interrupted him.

“So you acted as heir to the Chief of Elvar?” Cah’lia asked. She smiled. “I’m proud of you, Sehn.”

Sehn knew he should be insulted. After all, why would he care who or what Cah’lia was proud of? Yet his spirits lifted at the note of approval in her voice. No matter where she was or what she was doing, Cah’lia always seemed to have a beauty about her, one that Sehn couldn’t ignore. It was more than the curves of her body or her bright blue eyes—it was the strength inside her. Sometimes—and of course this wasn’t true—it
almost
seemed like she could endure more than he could, pain wise. Of course, such a thing was ridiculous, as no human, elf, dwarf, or other manner of living creature could withstand what the Great Sehn could.

Sehn was taken aback at how much of an effect Cah’lia had on him. It grew worse each time he saw her, too. At first, it had just been Sehn noticing the obvious—the way her tight clothing conformed to her body, or the way her chest expanded when she inhaled. But lately, Sehn noticed increasingly more things about her. He now memorized her confident strut. The sway of her hips burned into his mind.

“You’re proud of me?” he asked, shocked and revolted by the gleeful feeling her validation brought out in him.

“Of course I am. Knowing you, it must’ve taken a lot to behave with those snippy lords breathing down your neck.”

She’s proud of me
,
Sehn thought.
Why am I so happy to hear that
?
What’s wrong with me
?

It’d been a long day, and with Sehn still on edge from being cooped up in that dreadful meeting, he felt his desire for Cah’lia not as a want, but as a physical need. Seizing the moment, he made his move.

Cah’lia almost seemed to expect the way he grabbed her shoulders and squeezed, because she did not pull away. Of all the treasures Sehn desired, of all the riches, servants and statues built in his likeness, the one that towered above them all was his desire for Cah’lia. Compared to her, all else was meaningless. He released her shoulders and held her face in his hands, gently leading her towards him.

“Sehn,” she whispered. “What are you…?”

He pulled her closer, and Cah’lia let her words fall off, her breath tickling his nose. Sehn lowered his arms down to her sides and over her hips. He placed his mouth over hers, and a moment before he gave into the passion, before he allowed himself to kiss her, he recalled he’d left out one small, barely important detail.

“Oh yeah,” he whispered, his lips mere inches from her own. “Before I forget, there’s an army of thousands heading towards our home to destroy it. But enough of that. Cah’lia, I’m going to—”

“W-WHAT!”

She pushed Sehn away, ruining the moment.

Wait
, he thought,
what moment
?
There was no moment
!
The Great Sehn is immune to ‘moments
.
’

The realization hit Sehn like a blast of icy wind. Once again he’d let his disgusting ‘emotions’ take control and nearly cause him to do something embarrassing and weak. He shook his head and chided himself for the loss of control. Cah’lia didn’t seem to notice his frustrations, as she was too busy hammering him with questions. He remained calm and answered them one at a time.

“So the Kingdom won’t send us aid? What kind of nonsense is that? After everything we’ve done for Patrick.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” Sehn commanded. “Everything will be fine. Listen, Cah’lia, Saerina explained it all to me, and things aren’t as bad as they seem. It’s simple. All we have to do is find a way to get to a magical island in the sky and then fight off hordes of mages guarding a captured heir to the throne and then get back down off the island and then take the magical-brat to Elvar where he’ll call off the army before finally returning him to his home to convince his little brother who’s acting as king to quit sending army-fools into our territory. See? It’s not a problem. To the Great Sehn, this barely counts as a morning garden stroll.”

For some reason, Sehn’s words didn’t seem to soothe Cah’lia. She pursed her lips and ran a hand through her hair. “This is bad. This is really, really bad. But you’re right, we can still stop this. And you just reminded me that we need to get going. I almost forgot what I had to show you.”

“To show me?” Sehn asked.

Worry vanished from Cah’lia’s eyes. Sehn felt the warmth of her hand as she covered his own and led him back out of the alley.

“We might have a way of getting to Magia,” she said as they walked. “Wolly thinks he can build a flying machine. He said he could do it in a day, too. And that was yesterday, so it’s probably done by now. Originally, we were going to use it to get to the capital faster, so I suppose this is a fortunate coincidence.”

The thought of a dwarven flying machine made Sehn uncomfortable. He still hadn’t forgotten how he’d (purposely) almost broken his legs after jumping off a building in Koringrath when he attempted to use one of their accursed gliders.

Cah’lia paused for a moment and turned to face him. She nodded in understanding. “I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. This isn’t like the one in Koringrath. That was something controlled by the wind, which is why it was foolish of you to try to use it on the least windy day of the year. This is an actual machine that can work by itself, or so Wolly claims.”

Sehn pulled his hand away from Cah’lia. He did not appreciate her insult. “How dare you call something I have done foolish, Cah’lia? Everything I have ever done has been the result of Godly righteousness. Do not make me put you in timeout.”

Cah’lia rolled her eyes. “I’m shivering in my boots.” Her face turned grim. “Get your insults out of the way now, because after what you just told me, we don’t have time for your stupidity.”

“How dare you call my supreme knowledge and wisdom stup—
”

“Enough!” Cah’lia snapped. “We need to get going. Because I
know
that, no matter what you say, you don’t really want to see Elvar burned to the ground. So quit your jabbering and let me take you to Wolly’s workshop.”

Sehn grumbled under his breath but decided to follow along. His legs seemed to ache just a little more at the thought of plunging through the sky and crashing into the ground like a meteorite. Sehn would personally destroy Wolly’s crunkets if this new invention of his failed.

The moment Sehn passed through the awning and stepped back onto the street, Rina charged forward and wrapped her arms around his stomach. She squeezed and buried her face into his thigh.