Read The Last Protector Online
Authors: Daniel C. Starr
"No,” Jape laughed, “he's not
that
John the Baptist. My connections aren't that good!"
"Where's he from, then?"
"Detroit, local year 2107. Unattached, spent some time as a missionary, looking for a challenge, not easily intimidated by unfamiliar customs or different cultures. And he's willing to stay in Taupeaquaah after he does your wedding."
"Great!” They turned the corner into Temple Square, and Scrornuck suddenly stopped in his tracks. To his left, a small crowd watched intently as a man in traditional Native American dress chanted and danced. To his right, another small crowd listened to a pair of shaven-headed monks in saffron robes. Over on the far side of the Square, he saw two more small crowds, and while he couldn't see the people at their centers, he thought he heard snippets of Arabic and Hebrew. “What the..."
Jape smiled innocently. “You said these people have been told what to believe for too long,” he said. “It's time they chose for themselves. So, I brought them choices."
Scrornuck looked at Jape, and then at the religious buffet that was forming below the steps of the old Temple. This wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. Then he shrugged, and laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess you can't choose unless you have choices."
They left the Square and continued at a brisk walk until they reached the banks of the Rio Taupeaquaah, at the far south corner of the city. There, they saw Preacher John, a tall, bearded black man, surrounded by a curious crowd of his own. He'd already begun an animated conversation with the group, answering questions, often grinning, occasionally laughing out loud.
He spotted Scrornuck instantly, and rushed over to give a hearty handshake. “So you're the one who brought down the Temple?"
"Just lucky,” Scrornuck insisted.
"Well, I don't know whether to call you Samson or Elijah,” John laughed. He strode into the dark waters of the Rio Taupeaquaah, stopping when he was about waist deep. “Who's first?” After some nervous glances back and forth, Rosaiah stepped into the water. Preacher John led him through a short liturgy and dunked him in the river. The Captain was next, followed by a few others. Then Nalia stepped into the water, had a short, whispered discussion with John, and walked back up onto the bank.
"Something wrong?” Scrornuck asked. “You don't have to do this if you're not sure you're ready..."
She grabbed his hand. “Oh, I'm going to do it,” she said. “But if I'm going in the river, I'm going
in the river!"
She pulled him up the hill, toward the cliff that rose nearly forty feet above the swirling water. “This is where we used to jump when I was a kid. Ready?"
He looked down at the river, knowing that in places it wasn't much more than a foot deep. “Are you sure?"
"Like you said, it's a leap of faith. Close your eyes and count to three.” On the count of two she jumped, pulling him along. They hit with a great splash, landing in water that was more than deep enough. Laughing and splashing, they floated down to meet Preacher John.
"What am I supposed to say?” Rosaiah asked nervously. The last of the debris had been removed from the small street on the west side of the Temple site late Friday afternoon. Now, a few minutes before sunset, the former High Priest stood before an ornate, dented metal grill, holding a long, long shopping list. “How do I pray for our needs?"
"This isn't a...” Scrornuck began.
Jape interrupted. “The supply system is addressed as a servant.” He inserted a small tool into an opening on the grille. “Allow me to demonstrate:
supply system, attention!"
A flat, mechanical voice replied: “SUPPLY SYSTEM READY. STATE REQUEST."
Jape pointed to the grille. “Now, tell it what you want to see in the morning."
Rosaiah looked into the grille and hesitantly recited the regular daily needs. After each request, the mechanical voice replied “ORDER ACCEPTED,” and with each acknowledgment, Rosaiah's voice grew more relaxed and confident. Soon he was rattling off the long list of food, drink and such that would be needed for the wedding, and with that Scrornuck and Jape departed.
"Well, that seems to be working,” Jape said as they crossed the Square.
"I'm surprised it didn't speak in the lizard's voice."
With a sly grin, Jape held up a tool that looked like an overly complex screwdriver. “The voices are just data. Push the reset button and poof, they're gone."
"Well, thanks,” Scrornuck said. “I don't think we need a Spafuist revival.” He turned to watch the workers. The last of the Temple debris had been cleared away, the grand stairs now rose to a block-wide platform, and on that platform workers were erecting a tent-like canopy for the wedding and the party that would follow. “I've got enough to worry about."
"Getting the pre-wedding jitters?"
"It just feels strange that she's gone tonight.” In keeping with Taupeaquaahn traditions, Nalia was spending the last night before her wedding in her old Cast Quarter apartment with the bridesmaids.
Jape shrugged. “When did wedding customs ever make sense?"
I've slain dragons and indestructible monsters, Scrornuck thought, as he stood on the balcony and gazed across the Guest Quarter rooftops to the wedding pavilion in Temple Square. I've saved the world a dozen times, returned from the place of the dead and even been a giant butterfly. All I've got to do is walk over and exchange some vows with the woman I love. He looked at the colorful banners atop the pavilion, fluttering in the morning breeze, and asked himself, why am I so nervous? He strolled back into the suite, feeling like that enormous butterfly was flapping its wings in his stomach. And where was Jape, anyway? The Ranger had again vanished, leaving only a cryptic note promising he'd be back in plenty of time.
Though the ceremony wasn't scheduled until nearly sunset, Scrornuck put on his wedding outfit and inspected himself in the full-length mirror. Not bad, he thought. The tailor had kept his promise. Above a new, brilliant red combat-style kilt, he wore a white shirt with a long, lace-up collar, and over his shoulders draped the crowning touch—his family plaid, cleaned, pinned and stitched so that it ran diagonally across his chest as a sort of sash, held in place with the old dragon-head brooch, and then flared out at the shoulders into a grand cape. It was an outfit suitable for a king—except for the footwear. The jumping-jack boots had been destroyed with the Temple, and the Taupeaquaahn shoemakers hadn't been able to fit his big feet, so he wore a pair of awkwardly-enlarged sandals. Even the tailor admitted they were the weakest part of the ensemble.
A messenger arrived, bearing a package from Jape. Scrornuck found a note affixed to the box:
S,
Cleo worked overtime to make these (you should recognize the material). I figured you'd want a souvenir. See you at the wedding!
—J
The package contained the second-most-magnificent pair of boots Scrornuck had ever seen: knee-high, fringed, made of beautiful, red-and-yellow, flame-patterned leather cut from the wings of the dragon he'd slain at Alpine Lake. Aw, Jape, he thought, you shouldn't have. But I'm glad you did. They fit perfectly, and as he looked in the mirror, he grinned—the boots were the perfect finishing touch.
He laid his wedding outfit neatly on the suite's couch, and headed down to the pool. There he passed the remainder of the morning and early afternoon, enjoying the sunshine, taking a dip, eating a lavish lunch, drinking a few beers, playing a few songs on his pipes and searching his prayer book for advice about marriage.
As the shadows lengthened, he returned to the suite and put on his wedding outfit, carefully arranging each pleat of the kilt and cape. He frowned as he strapped on his sword—the short, curved Taupeaquaahn blade looked like a toothpick on him, and the local smiths had tried without success to forge a longer sword. Jape believed he could obtain another of the glorious silver swords that he'd given to Scrornuck while disguised as the Master, but so far he hadn't delivered.
Speaking of Jape, the Ranger was still nowhere to be seen, and Scrornuck found this worrisome. Still, the note had said
see you at the wedding
, so he set off for the Square, hoping to meet Jape there.
At the Square, he found no sign of Jape or Nalia—only Preacher John, who directed him to an inconspicuous corner of the pavilion and left him to wait.
"Well, you're certainly looking fancy.” The voice behind Scrornuck spoke not in the common tongue but in the melodious speech of his homeland. He turned, and his father grabbed him in a great bear hug. “You didn't think I'd miss my only son's wedding, did you?” They talked for a while, Scrornuck telling tales of his more recent adventures, his father describing the goings-on in their village and marveling at this great white city.
When John returned to say it was time, Scrornuck's father put a hand on his son's shoulder and said, “Wait.” He pointed to Scrornuck's short Taupeaquaahn sword. “No son of mine's going to his wedding with a little sticker like that!” He held out a long, beautifully worked black leather sheath containing the old family sword, the one Scrornuck had sliced in half. It was now re-made, polished to a brilliant shine and engraved along its length with an intricate pattern of entwined serpents. Slowly, almost reverently, Scrornuck buckled the belt around his waist. The old man beamed. “Now, my son, you're ready to be wed."
With his father on one side and Preacher John on the other, Scrornuck stepped onto the old Temple porch. The Square was packed, and the porch was carrying its share of city dignitaries, including the Mayor himself. Only Nalia and Jape were still missing.
Announced by a blare of trumpets, a great parade stepped out from Staging Street. Floats, bands, dancers, jugglers, tumblers, all performed as the parade slowly moved past City Hall and around the Square. Atop the final float, the one that had once carried Rosaiah to the Temple, stood Nalia. And I thought I knew how to make an entrance, Scrornuck thought.
The float came to a halt directly before the porch, and an elite group of Mayoral Guards, in their finest formal uniforms, extended a gangplank. Slowly and regally, Nalia walked across, the long train of her white gown held by her many attendants.
Preacher John elbowed Scrornuck gently. “Nervous?"
Scrornuck nodded. “I wish Jape were here."
John smiled. “Don't worry. Things will work out."
Nalia made a graceful turn and stood next to Scrornuck, facing the Square. He smiled and winked at her. She returned the smile.
The Mayor stepped forward, pumped both of their hands vigorously, and began a long speech commemorating their heroism, their bravery in the face of impossible odds, and the sacrifices they had made to save the City. Scrornuck shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, knowing how long a politician could talk.
Another trumpet blast interrupted the Mayor's oration. The crowds parted, and Jape led a procession of ten men and women into the Square on horseback. He dismounted, handed the reins to a bewildered Guard and bounded up the stairs two at a time, shouting “the Best Man has arrived!” He looked magnificently formal in a slightly-off-center way, having exchanged his traditional fade-into-the-background attire for an elegant black tuxedo set off by bright-red, high-top sneakers. Scrornuck's grin widened as he recognized the other nine riders from another ceremony, one held three years earlier in the ruins of an ancient castle. Jape had indeed pulled out all the stops.
"Um...” the Mayor said.
Jape tipped his hat. “Finish your speech, Mister Mayor. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"Uh, I was almost done.” The Mayor's words prompted a huge cheer and a little laughter—Jape's arrival had cut the speech by at least two thirds. “It's time for the Presentation.” He shook Scrornuck's hand heartily and held out a key. “This key,” he proclaimed, “signifies your perpetual ownership of the suite you now occupy in the Guest Quarter. It is the least our city can do to show its gratitude.” He pressed the key into Scrornuck's hand.
Nalia whispered in Scrornuck's ear. He nodded, and said softly to the Mayor, “terms and conditions?"
The Mayor spoke discreetly, in rapid-fire lawyer-speak: “Acceptance of this key signifies that you give up all rights, now and forever, to any claims on the property formerly known as Darklord Castle."
Nalia whispered in Scrornuck's ear again, and he again nodded. “Accepted with amendments,” he said. “One: perpetual ownership includes unlimited restaurant and pub privileges at all Guest facilities, including Alpine Lake, whatever is developed at the former Darklord Castle, and any others not yet discovered, plus lodging at facilities outside the City. Two: five percent of Darklord Castle net revenues go to the charity of my choice. Agreed?"
The Mayor looked at Scrornuck, then at Nalia, and again at Scrornuck. “Amendments accepted. You drive a hard bargain, sir."
"I get good advice."
With the Best Man present, the politician silenced, and the entire town paying attention, Preacher John began the wedding ceremony. Compared to the buildup, the actual vows were brief, very brief, and when the minister pronounced them married, Scrornuck and Nalia stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever. Finally, on the verge of tapping his foot with impatience, John staged-whispered in a voice that carried across the otherwise-silent Square,
"You can kiss her if you want."
And, as fireworks filled the evening sky and the citizens of Taupeaquaah stood and cheered, he did.
Scrornuck loaded the last of the gear aboard the horses. It was late Sunday afternoon, and he and Nalia stood in the grand plaza outside the West Gate, preparing to depart for their honeymoon at Alpine Lake. They were not traveling alone. The six wagons that had brought provisions to Taupeaquaah on Wednesday were headed back south, this time loaded with Cast members eager to open up the winter sports area's facilities. The caravan would take four days to reach its destination, as each stop along the way—the Pub at the Junction, the equestrian center, and the two trading posts—had already planned its own party and overnight stay for the two world-savers.