Chapter 394: Camelots

Chapter 394: Camelots

The city was mine. Well, it was under the auspices of Her Royal Highness Princess Laney of Fengarad, but if she didnt do what I told her Id send her to bed without any supper. She would probably demand a spanking instead.

The citys confused and mildly disappointed citizens wandered back through the gates and returned to their homes, which much to their surprise had not been burned to ashes. Being confused and mildly disappointed was, of course, normal for anyone living in a city, so they were used to it.

There was no great outcry, no seeds of rebellion. And even if there were, I planned to be long gone before they bore any fruit.

My plan had worked, more or less. Everyone looked at me like Id stumbled into victory defying all reason, but that was okay. A win is just a win, you still have to manage the aftermath into something useful. Putting Laney in charge was the key to preventing any resistance. That, and getting Damicar to arrange free food and drink for the returnees, all sourced locally and paid for by the city treasury. Bribe the people, stimulate the economy, give them a pretty girl to look at. If I wasnt busy facing global catastrophes Id have made a great campaign manager for some local election.

There were still a large number of undead soldiers all over the place, so it wasnt quite back to normal, but the undead didnt really do much when they werent under orders; more of a curiosity than a threat.

They would have made a decent constabulary, one that didnt abuse their power to harass people because it made them feel important and powerful. Its a problem with police everywhere except on TV, where they spend most of their time driving fast and somehow not killing pedestrians. Completely unbelievable.

I convened a meeting of the Fengarad roundtable, which consisted of me, Jenny, Laney, Biadet, Flossie and Dudley, Joshaya cosplaying as Arthur, Caim and Angel Rose, and Damicar, who was in charge of catering. Other than Damicar, the rest were all likely candidates to fuck things up first chance they got.

We had an Arthur, we had a magic sword, we had a princess, and we even had a dragon. It was very roundtabley, apart from the table being oblong and a lot less of a sausage-fest than the OG version. See how progressive I am? I guess I was Merlin.

The Holy Grail for this particular crusade was for me to get rid of Peter and then make a swift exit. My chances were about as good as finding the actual Holy Grail. Although, to be fair, I can see the reason why you would search the world for the cup used by Jesus Christ at the last supper. Imagine how much it would go for on Ebay.

My sliver of attachment to Jenny was already making it much harder to think clearly. I should have been pressing her for answers and explanations. There were numerous questions I still had, but it was hard to focus on them when we were alone, other options seemed much more attractive. With everyone watching, it would be much harder to get carried away. I hoped.

So, lets start by asking where Peter is exactly, last time you saw him, ballpark area, roughly speaking? My attempt at being forceful and demanding like all those successful dictators you see on the news wasnt going well. They make it look so easy. Perhaps it helps to have a funny moustache.

All eyes turned to Jenny. Hes here in Fengarad.

What? Hes really here? said Flossie. Why didnt yo tell us?

Sorry, said Jenny.

I thought everyone went to Dargot, I said.

Everyone but him. Hes in one of the spires, working on getting it active. We cant get in and he wont answer the door. Thats what hes been doing since we got here. Maurice managed to get into one of the other spires, thats how he was able to send himself to the island.

After having had no explanations about anything, it was a bit overwhelming to suddenly get answers.

If hes here, I said, why didnt he do anything about our attack on the city?

Jenny shrugged. I dont think he cares. Hes working on something bigger.

A way back home? I said.

Thats what Maurice thought. They were in a race to see who could get there first.

Coming first has always been a big deal for the human race. Its an odd concept most of the time. Its not like if the guy who discovered a new land or a new drug or some handy gizmo had decided to do something else instead that wed still be wondering what was beyond the horizon, riddled with STDs, riding around on bicycles with the wheels different sizes. Someone else would have invented the telephone or the lightbulb.

But first confers some kind of ownership. You got there first, you get to keep it. Put a flag on it, stamp your trademark underneath, patent pending.New novel chapters are published on

I mean, if I paint a flower, I own that picture. I can do what I want with it. But it shouldnt mean no one else can paint flowers without paying me just because I did it first.

I realise Im oversimplifying, but sometimes it does feel that idiotic. And even if you believe people should be rewarded for getting there ahead of everyone else, its never as straightforward as it should be. History is littered with stories of inventors who were bullied out of their rightful credit.

If Maurice was able to find this gateway back to Earth, would he be in charge of who went through? Wouldnt Peter just say, Thanks very much, and take it away from him?

More than being first, you need the clout to back up your claim. You need an army.

What was in the spire Maurice opened? Did you go inside? Is it still open?

Jenny nodded. You can go see for yourself. It didnt make much sense to me. A lot of weird runes and symbols Maurice was trying to decipher. He wrote it all down in his notebook. Claire has it.

This was good. It felt like I was making progress. I would have a look inside the spire and hopefully it wouldnt be a trap designed to capture me. I wouldnt put it past Maurice to set all this up just to get me to walk into some elaborate ruse hed concocted. Mind you, stuck in a spire on my own wasnt the worst thing I could imagine. My mum took me to see Starlight Express when I was a kid my pit of horrors runs deep.

If Id said yes, I think they would have been somewhat relieved. It would be a motivation they could at least understand.

Lets wait until after the wars been won before we start squabbling over the toys in the nursery. Dargot Dudley, youll have to be our eye in the sky. Sorry, I know its a strain.

No, no, its fine. I just need somewhere quiet to sit and not move for a few hours. I should be able to manage that.

Ill give yo regular back rubs, said Flossie. I could see where that would lead.

Okay, that should be fine for now. Im going to go have a look in the spire. Might give me a few ideas. Any questions? I should have known not to ask something so open. Had I learned nothing? (Shut up, its rhetorical). Flossie put her hand up. Yes?

Are you and Jen back together again?

I turned to look at Jenny.

Why dont you answer her? she said.

I wouldnt want to speak for you, I said.

Good, then dont. Speak for yourself.

What do you say in these sorts of situations? What if the other person doesnt agree with your take and makes you look like a fool?

I think the only choice is to be honest. Say what you genuinely think and that can never be turned against you any more than it already has by you. Cant get me if I get me first.

Well, Id like to think were heading that way, but theres always the chance shes pretending to like me and using sex to keep me distracted while Claire or someone sneaks around doing whatever it is they think will give them an advantage. Pat Benatar said dont use sex as a weapon, but Im not sure how much of a follower of Pat Benatar Jenny is.

It felt good to get my concerns off my chest. Jenny didnt seem pleased, or surprised.

Ma moom loved that song, said Flossie, riding roughshod over my exposed vulnerabilities, which is about as painful as it sounds. She used to sing it around the house.

Your mother sang Dont use sex as a weapon around the house? Are you sure she wasnt trying to let people know she was the victim of domestic abuse?

Hey, said Flossie, dont say that. My parents loov each other. Theyre very happy.

Dont they live in the West Midlands?

Flossie didnt seem pleased, or surprised.

A guard came rushing in. He stopped in front of me and saluted, which was an odd experience. Theres a man at the gates. Says hes an envoy from Dargot.

All this time I was thinking to send someone to keep an eye on them, theyd decided to send someone to check up on us.

Did he give a name? I asked.

Gideon, my lord.

And hes alone?

The guard nodded.

Gideon was the leader of the cool kids. It seemed unlikely he would come without the other Gidiots. Were they already in the city, waiting for a signal? Had Peter summoned them? Was I about to face him in a battle to the death?

What I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that he was going to have some ridiculous new haircut and while that wasnt a good reason to kill him, it would make the guilt a lot easier to deal with.

Let him in.

The guard rushed away to relay the order. Gideon probably had something or other up his sleeve, but so did I.

Damicar, we have a guest. Lets serve him something extra special.