Chapter 65: Dudley Done Right

Chapter 65: Dudley Done Right

For the next week, life was nice and relaxed. Nobody wanted to kill us, and we didnt want to kill anyone; other than a few fish who, lets face it, were too delicious to live. Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

Claire was still a bit pissed off with me, but she had forgiven Maurice, at least thats what it sounded like every night. Now that I knew they were all at it, I became aware of all sorts of sounds and I ended up moving my tent away from the camp just so I could get a decent nights sleep.

I may have convinced them to try other forms of intercourse, but I really didnt want to be within earshot of cries like, No, no, take it out. Take it out! And that was Maurices voice.

We fished, we swam, we messed around with swords. It was supposed to be hardcore training, but I dont think you could call it anything other than messing around.

I showed them all the moves the Princess had taught me, but I didnt really have them down well enough to teach others. Still, it gave everyone a little more confidence to have specific moves to practise and there was a definite, if slight, improvement as we bashed each other with sticks.

Even though Id only had a couple of lessons, I was already far superior to the others. The footwork made an especially big difference as I outmaneuvered them and landed my hits. Dont worry, I wasnt as brutal as I was with Laney, and only tapped them lightly.

I also took to running in the mornings. I would do laps of the lake in my bare feet like those African runners who always win the Olympic marathon. The idea was to toughen up my body, but I was starting from a position of marshmallow softness and my first couple of days were filled with painful sores and cuts. Which led to the discovery of a new kind of magic.

On the second morning of my new training regime, I came to a limping stop as yet another sharp stone or twig had stabbed me in the foot. I lifted up the sole of my foot to try and sort out the bleeding. Dirt and grit covered the wound, which couldnt be a good, so I sat at the edge of the water to clean it.

Jolie came swimming over, her kid splashing about around her. Even though the frogman physiology was totally different to ours, something about her eyes and lips made her look very feminine. The more time we spent around them, the more human they all felt. And no, I was not horny for frog pussy. Im not even sure there was such a thing.

You are injured? she asked.

Yeah. Just a little bit. I dont suppose you know any healing magic. I said it as joke. Jolie reached her hand out, made a few finger movements, and touched the sole of my foot.

There was a tingle and a few seconds later, the cut was completely gone. I poked my foot with a finger to make sure. No pain, no blood, all back to normal. Jolie was about to swim away.

Er, could you just show me how to do that? I said.

I had continued to practice my magic flame and was getting quite good at it. Id come to the conclusion it didnt require me to not care about everything to make it work, I just had to not care about the magic working.

As long as I treated it like no big deal, the flame would come. The flame itself refused to be more than a tiny pilot light, unable to set fire to anything other than the most dry and brittle of kindling (or pondweed), but that was something to work on later.

The fish-calling had been less successful. I could get a slight glow in the water, which the fish seemed to find mildly interesting. They came closer to have a look but then swam off. But the fact I was able to raise a little fishy curiosity at all was more than I expected, so I was very pleased.

A girl like her is going to attract attention from other guys. I know she isnt like a model but shes cute and shes got them boobs, right? I mean, holy shit, I bet you cant believe your luck.

I punched him in the arm and he grinned and nodded.

All Im trying to say is, at some point you may get in a situation where some other guys decide they want some of that lovely boobiness for themselves, and you will have to deal with it. Its your job to keep her safe, Dudley. You cant rely on us always being there to help. I mean, of course, most of the time we will be, but if we arent, you need to be able to do whats necessary. You understand what Im saying?

Of course, said Dudley. I will do everything in my power

No, I said. I know you have every intention of protecting her, but that isnt worth very much if you dont have the skills to back it up. I mean, youre good with the bow, but if three guys come at you, could you take them all down?

Dudley looked at the bow in his hands. I I dont know.

You have to be able to shoot fast and straight and make every hit count. You hesitate, start wondering if youre doing the right thing, you could lose Flossie. And I mean permanently. We dont get do-overs in this place. You need to get better than good. You need to be flawless, for Flossies sake.

You may think the Incredible Hulks transformation is drastic, but thats nothing to the change in Dudleys demeanour as I pressed the idea of losing Flossie into his big, empty head. His face lost its dreamy countenance and his eyes tightened into a laser-sharp death stare. Right then, if Id told him I planned to take Flossie away from him, I think he would have killed me on the spot.

His training went from maybe an hour a day, to three or four daily sessions. He set up two more scarecrows and bombarded them with arrows. Head, chest and groin. Lots of groin. His fingers would be bleeding by the time he finished, and I gladly healed them.

He improved dramatically, and when he got tired of the relentless monotony, I would whisper in his ear about the terrible men out there, lying in wait for his girl, and hed be back on the firing range tout de suite.

Flossie was a little bothered by the sudden obsession with shooting things, and the lack of attention given to her, but if your relationship cant handle your boyfriend turning into a single-minded killing machine, can you even call it true love?

I helped Flossie get over her loneliness by giving her extra training sessions. No, that isnt a euphemism, I mean I put a stick in her hand and taught her basic sword strikes, over and over. She needed the help, and I made sure to call out, Youre dead! every time I stabbed her with the stick. Nice and loud so Dudley could hear. The idea of Flossie dying only made him train harder.

It may seem horribly manipulative (probably because it was) but in the end, he would have the skills to keep Flossie safe. And, of course, those skills would be available for me to use, as well. What a happy coincidence.

When I wasnt messing with Dudleys head, I took to hunting around the lake. Jolies cooking was exceptional, but man cannot live on fish alone (although frogs can), and I also fancied trying out my new skills and training. Eventually, I expected to be out there on my own and I felt I should get used to it.

It was on one of these solo hunting trips that I bumped into an old friend. I was tracking a small deer-like animal through the tall grass, crouched low with my bow drawn, me versus bambi, when I saw a pair of very attractive legs ahead of me. I stood up and aimed at the head, ready to fire.

Oh, said Jenny. Nice to see you, too.