FANTASY

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Page 1

Nigbe couldn’t understand why there always had to be such a clamour. Symbols clashed, timbals timpanied and horns heralded: It was giving him a headache. The parade passed through the narrow streets of Dahar. Spiralling mud-baked, multi-storied buildings rose either side, the more ambitious ones defying gravity precariously. Below, the bazaar buzzed and bustled like an excited dog greeting its master. Merchants jostled their wares and their voices as they displayed prized possessions, enticing and cajoling the happy hordes strolling past. Stalls usually drab and utilitarian were newly painted and decorated with garlands of umari flowers. Long brightly coloured silks hanging from the windows, gently waved at the crowds, their touch, soft as the umari petals raining down on the supplicants in the procession. Small children carrying platters of cooked yashi were pushed forward by mothers eager to receive blessings. The Kadala Festival was a feast for beggars. The only day when beggars didn’t go hungry, get spat at, hit or kicked; their status elevated to an almost reverential level. Thus Kadala was also known as the “Beggars’ Festival”. Nigbe was enjoying himself, considering tomorrow meant a return to the spitting…. hitting….. kicking…..

Lamius the 43^rd Rahnn sat on his thrown upon a raised dais. He frowned petulantly. Ceremonial guards flanking the courtyard held standards depicting successive royal generations. In front of the dais, an elongated table was laden with ornate wooden boxes of various sizes, containing different items: Gold, silver, jewelry, perfumes, fineries and edible delicacies. Gooleblak, the first priest rushed up to the monarch. He bowed hastily ‘ My Lord…the Gods show favour. At last I know who…..’ He whispered to Lamius.

--‘ Are you sure Priest? ‘Gooleblak twirled nervously one strand of finely plaited beard. But before he could answer, the trumpeters announced the procession. Lamius heaved a sigh.—‘ How tedious’ he thought: The speeches, the nauseating paupers and the interminable quest candidacy. The Rahnn would receive each supplicant and determine whether he was “blessed” or “benefactor”. The former would go to the table to pick a gift, the latter would join the other benefactors to compete in the Games. The winner being honoured with the Kadala Quest.

Nigbe was in the middle of the queue awaiting the Rahnn. He knew he had to get to the front or else there’d be nothing left on the table except for chereill pods, and he didn’t particularly enjoy eating cherrills withered in the sun for hours. Nigbe had come prepared. In his pocket, he squeezed a carefully wrapped bundle of rotting jelko, immediately a putrid stench seeped out, with the addition of some belching and projectile flem, individuals were soon giving way in disgust. Nigbe was 6^th from the table. In front of him stood a muscular young man. Definitely a nobleman Nigbe surmised but one from the lesser houses if his apparel and plain weapons were any indication. He’d obviously come to seek his fame and fortune with the Quest. Nigbe put on his most wretched voice ‘ Kind Sir, if you’ll allow me….’he tried to pass him ‘ may my “blessed” boons offer you great….. ah… blessings… in your endeavours for the Quest….’

The nobleman wasn’t impressed ‘ Wait your turn beggar. There’ll be gold enough left for you….’

Nigbe squeezed the jelko, coughed vehemently, choking his reply ‘ Alas… kind Sir… ..I may not….. live long….. to reach….the…. Rahnn….’

The nobleman glared at him coldly, then smiled ‘ Your performance….’he wrinkled his nose ‘ complete with props…. deserves my place….’he gallantly moved aside. Nigbe was now next in line. He stepped forward. Something unexpected happened. Before Nigbe could receive the welcome ritual, Lamius descended the dais and with bended knee and bowed head, exclaimed ‘ it is we who are honoured, great champion.’ Surprised and confused shouts abounded. ‘ Silence!!’ Lamius thundered ‘ for centuries we have selected our champions for the Quest of Kadala…….. Today the Gods have chosen….’

The priest appeared ‘ The portends do not lie….. they have shown…. the 5^th man here…. shall be the one….’

Nigbe swayed as if deliriously drunk and slurred ‘ mmm…mm…me…ME!!’ He fell to his knees ‘ mmm…mistake …bbb..BIG…mistake ……I’m NO warrior…. worthless beggar, sniveling coward….YES…’

--‘ You cannot hide your true self……….Champion ‘Gooleblak purred.

--‘ My true self isn’t hidden….. its in plain view….. shaking with fear!….. My Lord….. have pity….. I’m no champion….’

--‘ Silence…’ Lamius motioned to some attendants ‘ Dress him appropriately…’

Nigbe raced up to the young nobleman ‘ My Lord…. this is the man you want… He…he was 5^th…but I tricked him….’ He patted the youths muscles ‘ Look…look at these… he’s far more heroic….’he implored him ‘ You want the job don’t you?’ The nobleman hissed ‘ Your making a fool of yourself. You have been graced by the Gods. Do not dishonour the Quest!’

The attendants carried Nigbe away screaming ‘ I’M NOT THE ONE!!’

Lamius paced in his chamber. Gooleblak entered with a young apprentice carrying many scrolls. Lamius blurted ‘ He can’t be the one!’ Gooleblak dismissed the boy before replying ‘ Appearances deceive…’

--‘ What if it was the other youth?’

--‘ Doubtful my Lord…. the portends never..’

--‘ Hang your portends!’ Lamius bit his nails ‘ I hate this Kadala charade…’

The priest soothed ‘ it serves a purpose… it has kept the house of Ryell in power for generations…’

Lamius had to agree ‘ Yes, my esteemed ancestor Rauiss, was something of a genius….. nobility loves a “Quest”, particularly if it’s supposed to bring glory to themselves and the city…… rewarding the poor to augur fortune on the brave, was especially a nice touch….’he sighed—‘ If it wasn’t for ancient prophecies foretelling doom by a stranger at the Kadala….. I’d almost enjoy these…. Festivals…’ He eyed Gooleblak hopefully ‘ can’t we just kill him? It’d be easier….’

Gooleblak shook his head ‘ the death of a supplicant would be…conspicuous. The great houses would be affronted by such sacrilege….. Besides, sending your enemies on the Quest has always been the….. subtle way to dispose of them……’

Page 2 by Jaye Coles

Nigbe had never really worried about mistaken identities before. It's true he had been mistaken for an honest man in the past, but the people who had mistaken him had been strangers to Dahar and once he'd pickpocketed their purses, he was pretty sure they would never make that mistake again. But a Kadala Benefactor? That was something else. Nigbe had been dragged to a luxurious bathing quarter and stripped of his beggarly garb. However, his first bath in a generation, even one that was administered by three beautiful palace handmaidens wasn't enjoyment enough to distract Nigbe from the constant barrage of questions bombarding his poor brain. He couldn't understand it, oracle or no oracle, how could anybody mistake him for a warrior? Granted, those oracles were always vague and interpretation was everything: The logical answer, Nigbe concluded, must be that the High Priest had misread the signs. Yet there was something about the High Priest, Nigbe didn't trust. Being a thief and a fraudster practically all his life, Nigbe could instinctively recognise others with much the same qualities. But then what would the High Priest gain by sending him on the Kadala Quest? It just didn't make any sense. One thing was certain, if nobody noticed his screaming objections before, then nobody was going to notice his screaming objections now. His only option, Nigbe decided, was to wait for an appropriate opportunity to escape. He would've bolted from the bathing room but the the high windows and guards standing outside changed his mind.

The handmaidens finally left, leaving Nigbe deloused, powdered, perfumed and dressed. He looked at himself in the full length mirror. He saw a thin man of medium height with a slightly stooping stance, wearing an ochre silk shirt, burgundy buckskin jerkin and breeches held together with a broad belt. A pair of leather boots completed the outfit. Nigbe grinned with his newly whitened teeth. If he didn't know himself, he would've said that there stood a fine nobleman .... a fine hero even..... Nigbe relaxed alittle. An idea formulated. Everyone wanted a hero, everyone expected a hero, so why not give them a hero? He would see this as a new performance challenge. He straightened his stance, lifted his head and tried to will the shifting uncertainty in his eyes to disappear.--' Confidence! That's all you need ' he told himself. The attendants returned with an assortment of weaponry. Nigbe's confidence ebbed. What was he going to do about the Quest?! --'Are you alright Benefactor?' The older attendant asked --' Perhaps these weapons are not to your liking?' He held up a giant broadsword, its hilt encrusted with diamonds and pearls.
--' No.... no. That's a... a great sword. Great... Great sword...'
With that approval, the attendants started to attach weapons to Nigbe's personage, in what seemed to him, a very haphazard manner. --' Hey! Watch that thing!' Nigbe shouted.
The answer was adamant --'Sorry Sir, but the short dirk always hangs there.'
Nigbe pleaded --' Couldn't I just hold it?'
The attendant solemnly replied --' All the time Sir?'
They continued loading Nigbe who continued heroically to wince and whimper complaints. At last they stopped. Nigbe glimpsed himself in the mirror. He'd been transformed. Frighteningly so. A twin-horned full-plated helm covered his head. He wore a burnished breastplate with slitted chainmail skirt and heavy plated greaves.From his belt, the giant broadsword hung in its scabbard; also a short broadsword, a long dagger, a short dagger, an engraved dirk and various chain-linked gold and silver star disks, their usage and effects unknown. One hand held a staff, its head a lethal spiked sphere. The other hand held a circular metal-spiked bronze shield: Nigbe stood at a slight angle. The attendants beamed at their handiwork --' Sir is ready to meet The Rahnn...' There was silence except for the laboured wheeze that was Nigbe's breathing. Nigbe couldn't see a thing and his head felt like a pea in a cauldron.
--' Great..... Splendid....' the words thundered and rattled in his helmet. He carefully and slowly lifted the visor and whispered --' When's he coming?'
The old attendant ignored this remark --' You're expected in the Ceremonial Chamber Sir....' he paused and when no movement was forthcoming, added by way of encouragement --' ... for the banquet in your honour....'

--' Oh. Of course. Yes.... yes...ha ha ha' Nigbe laughed mirthlessly, muttering under his breath --' If I could walk, I'd go...' He knew it wasn't a good idea; He raised one foot and immediately toppled over. As the floor rushed to meet him, he was thankful all the swords were sheathed. The attendants ran over and hoisted Nigbe upright --' Are you alright Sir?' they panicked in unison.
Nigbe managed to squeeze out an answer --' Yee-ss' They took off his helmet and heavy breastplate. The shift in weight almost made Nigbe lose his balance again, but he composed himself and pretended the fall had never happened. He walked purposefully forward and successfully managed two steps before his belt of swirling swords twisted and terrorised his legs into executing another spectacular fall. This time the attendants were prepared and inured with years of palace training, they came to Nigbe's aid, without even the hint of a smirk. Dejectedly Nigbe struggled to his feet and with whatever little dignity he had left, nonchalantly asked --'Do you think The Rahnn would mind... if I... came...ah.. without my battledress?'
The attendants offered professional objectivity --' As you wish Sir' and began to dismantle the swords from his belt.
Nigbe attempted to reclaim some belated warrior spirit --' I'll use them later,' he continued gruffly --' I'm a... a... specialist. Unarmed combat.' The attendants nodded unimpressed. Nigbe followed them meekly towards the Ceremonial Chamber. He sighed. His performance as the noble conquering hero hadn't started well. But still, he consoled himself, he just needed abit more preparation. He only hoped that the few minutes he had would be preparation enough.....

Page 3 by Moya Green

Trumpets blared a strident fanfare as Nigbe entered the Ceremonial Hall. Light blazed from huge chandeliers suspended from a ceiling painted with the entire pantheon of Dahar, engaged in hurling thunderbolts, impregnating virgins and other godly activities. Nigbe had no attention to spare for the artwork. The vast chamber was crammed with courtiers, who as soon as he appeared fell silent and turned as one to stare at him. Nigbe fought down an impulse to flee. Confidence, he told himself sternly, and hoped no-one was near enough to notice how much his knees were shaking. The throng parted and he saw the Rahnn had again come down from his high seat to greet him, a beaming smile on his face. --'Welcome, great champion! Welcome to our humble abode!' The Rahnn took Nigbe by the hand and led him towards the high table. After mounting the dais he turned and the trumpets rang out again. Nigbe winced. How can they stand the noise, he wondered. They must be all deaf. --'My people,' went on Lamius, --'let me present the chosen of the gods, the esteemed - er -- '
--'Nigbe,' whispered Nigbe.
--'The esteemed and glorious Nigbe, our new Kadala Champion!'
The cheers, Nigbe thought, were more polite than enthusiastic. --'This morning a beggar, tonight a noble of the rank of kiskedar, 3rd class!' More subdued cheering. Nigbe caught some sour looks from the assembled aristocrats. --'Who will, upon the successful completion of his Quest, receive not only the thanks of a grateful nation but also the hand of my own dear cousin, the Princess Sarinda!'
Nigbe’s mouth dropped open as a young woman detached herself from the crowd and undulated towards them. Her golden hair, entwined with pearls, fell way below her slender waist. She was clad in gauzy azure silk, which showed tantalising glimpses of the body beneath. As she sank into a low curtsey before the Rahnn, he felt his gaze irresistibly drawn down the front of her dress. She glanced up and brilliant green eyes flashed briefly, before being demurely lowered.
He realised the Rahnn was still speaking. --'. . . as the customary combats to choose the Champion cannot now take place, it has been decided that the three doughtiest fighters will be appointed the Champions Companions. With the usual prizes, of course.' The cheers this time were resounding. --'Sorry about that,' muttered Lamius --'Normally you get to choose your own Companions, but we have to have a contest of some kind, they expect it. Still, I don't suppose you had anyone in mind.'
Nigbe shook his head. He could think of no-one of his acquaintance who would not run screaming at the mere hint of such a suggestion. As he led the Princess Sarinda to the high table he tried to study her profile. It was a very nice profile, even when wearing the expression of one who suspects something wrong with the drains. Then the sight of the banquet drove all thoughts of her temporarily from his mind. The banquet was truly splendid. All known species of beast, fowl and fish were represented, roast, boiled, fricasseed, raw or in the case of the Ungolian tree fish, alive. There was fruit, fresh and preserved, and every imaginable variety of sweetmeat. For a while Nigbe was too busy filling and emptying his plate to take much notice of his neighbour, but once his first hunger was satisfied he remembered her. The Princess sat stiffly, frowning at her almost empty plate. --'Not eating?' Nigbe leaned over, trying to sneak another look down her cleavage.--'Have some oysters.'
--'No thanks. And keep your eyes to yourself, dogbreath.'
Nigbe drew back, affronted. --'That's no way to speak to your fiancé!'
--'Fiancé you may be, but don't imagine you’ll ever get to marry me.'
--'Why not? The Rahnn said ...'
Sarinda laughed. --'Do you think he would have made a promise like that if he expected to have to keep it? When was the last time anyone succeeded in a Quest? All the easy ones were achieved centuries ago.' She stabbed her fork into a candied plum. --'I think I'm safe enough.' Nigbe pushed his plate away. For some reason he had lost his appetite. He drained his goblet and signaled for a refill. Gods, he needed some fresh air.

Nigbe stumbled through the darkness of the palace gardens. Maybe all that wine had been a mistake, but in the circumstances getting drunk had seemed the most sensible course of action. If he could just sit quietly for a while . . . he sank onto a stone bench and leaned back, closing his eyes. The murmur of voices awoke him. At first he paid no attention, but the sound of his own name alerted him. --'. . . the thought of you in the arms of that disgusting beggar.'
--'I would rather die than let him touch me.'
--'I won't let it happen.'
They were right behind him, on the other side of the hedge. --'What are you going to do?'
--'Win the contest tomorrow. As one of his chosen companions, I will be in a perfect position to make sure he never comes back.'
The man's voice sounded vaguely familiar. Nigbe frowned, trying to place it. --'Don’t worry, my love. If the three-headed worm of Xinthia doesn’t get him, I will.'
Of course! The young nobleman whose place in the queue he had taken! He heard the crunch of feet on the gravel, coming his way. Alarmed, he scrambled to his feet. They must not find him here. The sudden movement was his undoing. As two figures rounded the corner, he doubled up and deposited the entire contents of his stomach at the feet of the lovely Princess Sarinda.

Page 4 by Linda Schuler

Sarinda screamed her disgust --' Why you... you... you...' she sputtered.
--' You pathetic piece of scum-infested vermin.... ' Lord Jalen completed. He tried to grab Nigbe to physically reiterate his disdain but Nigbe was swaying dangerously. He garbled something like an apology but the sentiment was somewhat obscured as his churning stomach expressed a more immediate sentiment: Nigbe hurled again. This time Jalen felt the full impact as his kidskin boots got drenched with remnants of Palidorian goose liver mixed with Menkeian mead. Jalen reeled from the stench, nearly feinting.
Nigbe barfed eloquently --' Thass betah...' and then feinted.
--' Oooh .. you ... you.... you...' Sarinda inarticulated, her seething anger increased by the fact that she didn't have a handy sword with which to disembowel the unconscious Nigbe. She settled for giving him a swift kick in the ribs from her sharp-pointed, gem-encrusted, puke-plastered shoes. She would have continued kicking indiscriminately, had Jalen not stopped her; Nigbe's valets appeared from the shadows.
Sarinda whirled on them --' Throw him in the dungeons!!... Feed him to the dogs!!... Feed him to the rats!!...' she emphasized slowly --' Feed... him... to... the... fleas!!!' She was of Royal blood and her temper equaled the Rahnn's in its regal splendor. The two servants wisely kept quiet. Sarinda stormed off, with Lord Jalen tagging behind, even he dared not placate the Royal Princess in rage mode. The attendants looked pitiably at Nigbe and hauled him to the washroom. Thankfully for them, Nigbe remained relatively comatose throughout the proceedings, only occasionally waking from his stupor to mumble --' Mmy... frrenss... eys...reelly...luffs youss..'

Next morning Nigbe's friends awoke him with a hearty --' Rise and shine Benefactor! '
Nigbe groaned --' Go away. ' He had the most horrendous headache. His brain was mush and his tongue felt like a million people had trampled over it. --' Wha... What happened? '
The younger servant was eager to fill in the blanks --' Well sir,... you attacked...' but a glance from the older servant warned him not to engage in prittle-prattle --' Sir enjoyed a most wonderful banquet...'
Ahh .... the banquet. Nigbe remembered the banquet.... He had never had access to so much free alcohol in his life before and he had drank like a man who might never have access to so much free alcohol again. He smiled. He remembered the drinking. He remembered going outside, then ... nothing. His memory refused to illuminate any further.
Nigbe squinted uneasily --' Do you think you could take out the sunlight?...'
The young servant laughed politely --' I think if you get up Sir, you'll feel alot better...'
--' I think I'll feel alot better if I stayed in bed... infact why don't you come back when it's dark?..'
The attendants stood immobile --' Alright... how about in a couple of hours?...' The older servant flung back the bed covers, Nigbe pleaded --' ... a couple of minutes?...'
He explained --' The Games will start soon and your presence is required in the Royal Box...'
Nigbe mumbled resignedly --' It would be...'

When Nigbe arrived, the Rahnn and the Princess were already seated. The Rahnn acknowledged him with a welcoming smirk; the Princess acknowledged him with an unwelcoming glare. His memory jogged. The beautiful Sarinda.... His bride to be.... He braved her glare and approached her. As he lent to kiss her hand, she hissed --' Touch me and I'll have your hands cut off and your eyes gouged out....' Suddenly Nigbe remembered everything and especially the reason behind her glare. He gulped --' My Lady... many humble apologies for ... ahh.. ah... my wish is only to serve you....'
Sarinda replied succinctly --' You served most of your dinner over me last night.... I do not need your service...' Nigbe decided to forgo further conversation. Obviously the Princess wasn't in a receptive mood, and besides Nigbe felt that his hangover was definitely draining his ability to be charming. He settled down to secretly leche the Princess instead.

The Games began. Over twenty knights dressed in the colors of their respective Houses, paraded their physiques and tested their agility, speed and strength at events such as archery, riding and wrestling. Points were allocated and the six contestants with the most points were paired off to compete in the final event: The Sword Duel. The winners would become the chosen Companions. The competitions were long and arduous; Nigbe slept through most of it. His loud snores prompted Sarinda to elbow him painfully --' I'm glad you're giving these Games the full respect it deserves...'
Nigbe's wits had recovered sufficiently --' Dear Lady, my eyes were closed in contemplation.... in appreciation of the fine display of bravery....' He surreptitiously wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and pretended to concentrate on the swordplay. Sarinda ignored him, her attention focussed on the contest and one young nobleman in particular. Nigbe followed her gaze. It was Lord Jalen, the same nobleman he'd tricked at the Festival and more recently regurgitated over. The adoration on Sarinda's face aroused Nigbe's jealousy; for Nigbe had fallen hopelessly in lust with her. --' He's stealing my wife! ' he fumed to himself --' Well, I'll soon fix him! I'll ...' Nigbe stopped himself. He noticed Jalen's tone body and taut muscles as he athletically demonstrated his attacking skills against his opponent: Nigbe couldn't possibly fix him.... Jealousy turned to envy turned to fear, especially when he recalled Jalen's vow: To stop Nigbe ever returning. Nigbe prayed for Jalen to lose; he loudly and enthusiastically cheered his opponent. Unfortunately, the unexpected voluble support from the Royal Box momentarily distracted Jalen's opponent, who missed a parry, allowing Jalen to slash deep into his shoulder. First blood spilt, the contest was over. The crowd applauded, the Princess beamed and Nigbe crumpled in despair. The Champion's Companions were presented: Lord Jalen of the House of Callinoor, Lord Keskellion of the House of Treyy and his brother Lord Keskellius. As he looked at them, Nigbe sank deeper and deeper into depression....... until an idea formulated. Nigbe suddenly smiled. His prospects may not be so bad afterall..... he just had to have alittle talk first......

Page 5 by Peter Howsen

The banquet for the Champion's Companions was in full swing. Nigbe showing endurance beyond his capabilities, restrained his alcoholic intake; he needed to be focused for the undertaking ahead. At last he espied his targets alone.
' Congratulations again!! ' he heartily shook their hands, ' What a honour it was to witness such wonderful swordsmanship... such skill... such finesse... such... such... ' he swished his arms in swordy manoeuvres for lack of suitable adjectives. The House of Treyy preened, ' Thank you Benefactor but the honour is ours to accompany you on your Quest. '
Nigbe grinned ' Ahh yes... about the Quest... I was wondering if you would be interested in a proposition... '
' Proposition? ' Lord Keskellion raised an eyebrow.
Noting their disdain, Nigbe corrected ' Perhaps "assurance" is a better word... ' He cleared his throat to explain ' Being a practitioner of the Honkube martial arts... ' ' Honkube? ' Lord Keskellius queried suspiciously, ' I'm not familiar with... '
Nigbe quickly interjected, ' Oh it's a very ancient... obscure... discipline of unarmed combat known only to a few... ' Keskellius still looked suspicious, as Nigbe changed the subject ' Anyway... the assurance... ' he paused in embarrassment and lowered his voice ' Well actually, it's more of a request from my wife ... umm... betrothed... the Princess Sarinda. '
He motioned for the two lords to huddle closer to him, ' The Princess fears Honkube skills won't be enough to ensure my safety and she wants you both personally to become my bodyguards... ' He shrugged apologetically, ' You know how emotional women in love can be... '
They all watched Sarinda. She was dancing a little too closely with Lord Jalen and blissfully ignoring Nigbe from all angles.
Keskellion looked confused, ' But Benefactor, we Champions are duty bound to aid and protect you... '
' Of course... of course... ' Nigbe again became conspiratorial ' but between ourselves... I'm worried about Lord Jalen... he's very young and... '
Keskellius interrupted coldly, ' Jalen is young but his courage is indisputable Benefactor... His sword will not fail you... '
' That's what I'm worried about... ' Nigbe muttered under his breath.
Aloud he said ' I'm not questioning his courage my lords... ' he sighed with world-weary experience ' But a Quest like this will involve many unexpected stresses... stresses that may unhinge young impressionable minds... leading to madness... '
' Madness?! ' the brothers were shocked.
Nigbe pleaded hurriedly ' I must therefore have your oath my lords, if Jalen tries to kill me in his madness, you'll kill him first! '
Keskellius and Keskellion exchanged bewildered glances but solemnly bowed to Nigbe, ' You have our oath Benefactor... '
Nigbe beamed, ' Splendid! I'm sure the Princess will be extremely grateful for my safe return. ' He winked, ' If you know what I mean... '
The brothers smiled politely but their disgust was plainly visible. They bowed stiffly and exited Nigbe's company. But Nigbe didn't care. He'd got their promise and the only thing Nigbe knew about noblemen for certain, was that they never broke promises...

Nigbe noticed activity on the raised royal platform. Gooleblak and Sarinda took their places. An usher ceremoniously tapped the floor with a staff; the music stopped. Everyone took their seats. The Rahnn got up from his throne and beckoned Nigbe and his three champions forward.
' The time has come to entrust the Kadala Benefactor with this most sacred of Quests... '
Nigbe had thus far managed to block the actual Quest from his mind. Aside from the Noble Houses, the Quest was something the everyday citizenry had very little knowledge of: Nigbe's nervousness returned with a vengeance.
' Centuries upon centuries ago, my esteemed ancestor Rauius III ventured out to seek the fabled gemstone of Sycalla... the largest, most beautifulest and most perfect of blood red rubies... '
Nigbe's ears picked up. Nigbe adored jewels especially big jewels.
' ... a ruby imbued with the power of Sycalla, a force so strong that whoever wore it would be protected from all evils... Rauius wanted that gem... to bring it back and place it on our city walls so that Dahar would forever be protected from her enemies... '
Loud cheers erupted from the assembled Nobles. Lamius hushed them appreciatively ' My esteemed ancestor would've been honoured by your display of affection... particularly since he has been the only nobleman to ever come close to stealing the Eye Of Sycalla... '
Nigbe was cheering up. Stealing? Why, he was the Master of Theft! Maybe the oracles were right... maybe he was the Chosen One...
Lamius continued, ' Rauius journeyed far... far across the Deoren Wastes... ' Nigbe mused, that wasn't so bad...
'... and over the Massid Ranges... '
Nigbe revised his opinion, that was bad... no-one in history except Rauius, had ever scaled the Massid Ranges...
' ... to engage in battle the dreaded monster Sycalla... '
Nigbe panicked, that definitely was very very bad... Whatever happened to stealing?!
Nigbe felt dizzy as he whispered to Keskellion ' He doesn't mean a real monster does he? ' Keskellion stared impassively ahead. The Rahnn proceeded to recite an epic poem recounting Rauius's battle with the Sycalla, but Nigbe's senses were dulling as only select phrases got through... Phrases like nostrils breathing fire, gaping maw with thrice jagged teeth thick set and spiny ridge of poisonous spikes. Lamius ended the epic and resumed his speech, ' Rauius barely escaped with his life... He returned to establish the Kadala Quest... He knew one day a nobleman would arise strong enough to defeat this unearthly beast and bring glory to this city... In anticipation for that, Rauius had this replica of the great leviathan made... ' The plush purple curtain behind Lamius's throne was drawn to reveal a high plinth on which sat a gleaming golden statue. Nigbe nearly feinted. It was all there: the gaping jaw with three sets of jagged teeth... nostrils as big as canons... and the ridge of lethal horns curving elegantly all the way down its back... Even the most psychotic dreamer couldn't have imagined a monster as nightmarish as this. Nigbe's bleary vision could only focus on one thing: the hole in the monster's forehead in which the ruby would sit. Suddenly Nigbe realised why the gem was called The Eye Of Sycalla ....

Page 6 by Alan Walkin

The murmuring became louder. Nigbe recalled a prison somewhere but the air didn't smell rank and the voices weren't harsh grunts but the cultured tones of the elite. Nigbe opened his eyes and heartily wished for the prison; The image of the Sycalla still loomed large: the horns, the claws, the teeth... lots of teeth. He was lying in his bedchamber surrounded by an entourage headed by the Rahnn.
– ' How are you Benefactor? ' the Rahnn seemed concerned.
– ' What... What happened? ' Nigbe asked, stalling.
– ' You feinted, ' Sarinda smirked, adding quietly – ' ... again. '
Nigbe grimaced and sat up straighter in his bed. He nodded submissively to the Rahnn – ' My apologies, Your Majesty for the ... umm... lapse. I think it was ...er.. the excitement of receiving the Quest which overwhelmed me... '
Lamius clapped Nigbe's shoulder magnanimously – ' No need to apologize Benefactor, I know your blood must be fairly racing through your veins, eager for the Quest to begin... '
– ' I'd say the blood raced to his brain first, ' Sarinda sneered an aside to Jalen.
– ' Of course... yes... yes... ' Nigbe gulped, – ' Racing... Absolutely... Racing... When... when exactly do I go? '
– ' You leave at dawn. '
The room started to spin again. Nigbe croaked, – ' So soon? ' He grabbed the bedside to steady himself – ' I was wondering Your Majesty... if... if my Kadala Companions should start without me... and I'll catch up with them later, ' he delicately wiped his brow with his sleeve – ' It's just that... I'm still feeling rather weak... ' The ensuing momentary silence was broken by the Rahnn's booming laughter – ' Lord Nigbe! Your jests are without comparison... '
Gooleblak wasn't amused, – ' Tradition dictates the Benefactor must always lead the Kadala Quest. '
Nigbe tugged the High Priest closer to him – ' I don't suppose we could start a new tradition? '
The High Priest whispered in reply – ' No. ' Nigbe slumped back onto the bed. Lamius briskly ordered everyone out and spoke to Nigbe like a favored son – ' You should rest Lord Nigbe.... you'll want to look your best for the morning... ' He and Gooleblak left. Not everyone had left. Nigbe saw his two attendants.
He sighed – ' Ahhh ... my only friends... '
The younger servant gushed – ' Are you looking forward to the Quest Benefactor? '
The older servant reprimanded – ' Be quiet Merrin... Can't you see the Benefactor is tired? '
– ' Not tired enough, ' Nigbe commented – ' Can you get me a sleeping draught? '
– ' Sleeping draught my Lord? '
– ' Yes, ' Nigbe muttered hopefully – ' Something that'll knock me out for tomorrow and preferably for the rest of the month too... '

Sarinda was arguing heatedly with Jalen in the corridor – ' Why can't you challenge him now? '
– ' I cannot dishonour the Ques... '
– ' Quest?! Quest! That's all you ever think about! ' she snapped. Jalen raised her sulky face to his and said softly – ' If I don't do the Quest, how will I win enough glory to ask the Rahnn for your hand in marriage... '
Sarinda persisted, but less sullenly, – ' You don't need his consent... I'm not his daughter. '
– ' No, but you are his Ward, ' Jalen continued solemnly, – ' Do you think I'll risk disgrace to your good name by asking you to run away with me? '
Sarinda smiled invitingly, – ' You place too much importance to a name... ' and leaned forward to kiss him. Abruptly she broke away, as if remembering something unpleasant, – ' What about Nigbe? '
Jalen explained patiently, – ' I will challenge him after the Quest is completed. Lord Keskellius and Lord Keskellion will be less likely to interfere then. ' He looked towards Nigbe's room, – ' It won't be much of a contest... but I'll make his a quick and easy death. '
Sarinda focussed on a new anxiety, – ' What if the Sycalla... What if you don't come back? '
Jalen looked blank, – ' I? ' It was obvious he'd never considered the possibility. He answered confidently, – ' The Sycalla will be up against Dahar's three fiercest warriors... if Lord Nigbe can stop quivering long enough to lead us to it, I'm sure we can destroy the monster between us... '
Sarinda wasn't convinced. – ' I wish I was going with you, ' she blurted.
Jalen laughed, – ' No doubt your tongue lashing and imperious glare will have the Sycalla running.... ' Sarinda punched him hard. Jalen rubbed his sore arm but continued mocking lightly, – ' And fearful weapons they are too... '
Sarinda hugged him tightly, – ' I only want to help Jalen... '
He held her gently, saying – ' You can help by staying here Beloved... I'll fight better if I'm not having to worry about your safety... ' Sarinda's answer was cut short as she noticed Lamius and Gooleblak exiting Nigbe's room. She pulled Jalen along the corridor – ' Let's discuss my safety further, in my chambers... '

Lamius observing the retreating figures noted, – ' Sarinda has developed an unfortunate attraction for this ... this Lord Jalen. Are you certain the House of Treyy will have no qualms about killing him?... I mean, I know they'll gladly slaughter the beggar because he offends their sense of honour... ' he paused to reflect, – ' However, Jalen is a nobleman... '
Gooleblak purred, – ' Lord Keskellius and Lord Keskellion have a very practical nobility.... '
The Rahnn spoke impatiently, – ' Yes... yes... whatever. But can they and their silence be trusted? '
– ' I'm sure you can depend upon their discretion and loyalty... especially if you give the elder twin, the Princess Sarinda... '
The Rahnn guessed astutely, – ' Gooleblak?.... have you been authorizing Royal marriages without my permission? '
Gooleblak was obsequious in his admission, – ' I put forward the proposal on your behalf, My Lord. As you know, Princess Sarinda can be... difficult. I merely thought that a husband such as Lord Keskellius would offer her the appropriate... stability in her life. Also, the House of Treyy has a much stronger army and plentiful resources compared to the House of Callinoor... '
– ' Callinoor? ' Lamius smiled disdainfully, – ' Callinoor's resources would hardly fill my hounds feeding bowls, let alone my Treasury. '
Gooleblak beamed, – ' I knew My Lord would agree... This arrangement guarantees the elimination of all your potential threats and gains you some significant tangible assets, in the process.... '
Lamius stopped walking to stare pointedly at his High Priest, – ' You have acted well Gooleblak... But be careful how far you carry your presumptions in the future.'

Page 7 by Ruth Paine

They looked fierce. Their horses looked fierce. He looked uncomfortable. His horse looked uncomfortable. He wasn't even on it. Nigbe sighed. He readjusted his slightly lopsided helm. It remained slightly lopsided. They were gathered in the palace courtyard, readying for the procession that would ultimately lead Nigbe, the Kadala Benefactor, through the main city gates towards the Unknown, unless .... Trauma, Terror and Death counted as unknowns....
The Rahnn's state carriage was at the front, giving a good impression of a decorative bloated peach on wheels. Keskellion and Keskellius gleamed brightly in their silver amour; their horses gleamed in matching amour. The House of Callinoor couldn't afford silver but Jalen had assiduously polished his bronze amour 'til it gleamed brighter than his colleagues'. Nigbe derived little pleasure in knowing that his golden amour outshone them all. Aside from the drooping helm and shaky legs which threatened to buckle at any moment, Nigbe was impressive. Nigbe's horse knew better; it was trying to shy away from him.
– ' Steady Storm... steady.... ' Merrin appeared.
– ' Storm?!? ' Nigbe asked incredulously – ' It's called Storm?! ' He took off his helm to air his brain – ' Doesn't anybody ever listen in this place?!... I've never ridden a horse ... ' he wiped his brow, mumbling – ' Stolen a few... '
– ' It's straightforward Sir... ' Merrin soothed the skittish animal – ' He's very gentle ... ' It seemed to Nigbe that Storm would rather kick Nigbe's backside than let Nigbe ride him...
– ' Really? ' Nigbe was caustic – ' Storm obviously means something else in Horsey Language... '
Merrin ignored the remark – ' He's ready for you Sir... '
– ' That's just great... ' Nigbe muttered.
The older attendant, Fustmer approached. His calm demeanor uncharacteristically ruffled – ' Benefactor? May I ask a favour from you? '
Nigbe, contemplating his mount and specifically how he was going to make the connection from ground to stirrup to saddle without injury, replied distractedly – ' Sure... '
Fustmer beamed – ' Thank you Benefactor! ' he looked worriedly at Merrin – ' Would... would you watch over my son... '
Nigbe stopped contemplating and gazed confusedly at them. He never realised they were related. – ' Wh... what? '
Merrin shifted uneasily – ' Father... I told you not... '
Nigbe suddenly noticed Merrin attired in traveling clothes – ' You're coming on this ridiculous Quest?! '
The two attendants paled. Merrin finally stammered – ' Your lordships require a servant... and the Kadala Quest is the highest hon... '
– 'Are you mad?! ' Nigbe interrupted – ' It's suicide! There's no honour in committing suicide! ' Over the days Nigbe had come to know his attendants well. He'd confided in them, telling them lurid stories of his beggarly past in his frequent bouts of drunkenness. They had made attentive listeners. He paced as fast as his amour would allow – ' I'll talk to somebody... get you off this... '
– ' I... I... volunteered... '
– ' Are you mad?! ' Nigbe reiterated.
Fustmer regarded his son fondly – ' I tried to dissuade him my Lord... but he was insistent... ' he added earnestly – ' We have faith in you... '
Nigbe was stunned – ' You do? ' The question why was eminent on his lips but he recovered sufficiently to say – ' Of course you do, it's only natural. '
Merrin started shyly – ' Pardon my boldness Sir ... but you see, you're... you're one of us... a commoner... and for a commoner to be blessed by the Gods... well, you must be someone very special... ' Nigbe silently tried to keep at bay the creeping nausea – '... and you've treated us with kindness... like equals... ' Merrin paused, ending quietly, – ' It's a honour to go on the Kadala Quest... but it's a greater honour to serve you, my Lord ... '
Oh yes, Nigbe thought I'm definitely going to be sick. He choked – 'Ahh... um... the thing is.... '
But the outpourings continued regardless – ' Many nobles have claimed to represent the People but its merely a gesture on their part, but you... you know the People... you know us... you are the Peoples' Champion... ' Fustmer knelt before Nigbe and placed his bony hand on Nigbe's arm – ' As our Champion... I beg you my Lord, to protect my only son... '
Nigbe's confusion increased exponentially. He looked at Fustmer and saw the depth of his sincerity; he looked at Merrin and saw the depth of his loyalty. He looked at the Knights and the surrounding nobility, busy with their preparations. No-one spared him even a cursory glance. They hid their sneers but Nigbe felt their contempt. Nigbe gently raised the old servant and said – ' I'll do my best Fustmer... '
The old man bowed gratefully – ' Now I know my son will return safely... '
Nigbe muttered mock-cheerfully – ' That's just great... '

Fustmer held the horse as Merrin helped Nigbe climb his charger. The five minute struggle between Man and Beast elicited loud sniggering from all around. The sniggering stopped when the Rahnn and Princess Sarinda entered the courtyard. The Rahnn acknowledged Nigbe with a polite smile. Sarinda ignored him as usual. Nigbe had wanted to express his feelings for her but she hadn't allowed him the opportunity. She hated him. The Knights hated him. They all hated him. Kadala Champion or not, he'd always known that. A fuse ignited within Nigbe: He'd show them; he'd show them how wrong they were; he'd slay the monster; he'd bring back the jewel... He looked at the Knights. Courage oozed from their every pore. Who was he kidding. They sat aloof and upright upon their steeds. Nigbe couldn't even get on his. The fuse fizzled out. Nigbe slumped resignedly in his saddle. The palace gates swung open. The crowds outside roared their approval. This just served to depress Nigbe further. He thought remorsely,
Somekind of Peoples' Champion.... Even the the People can't wait to get rid of me... The three Knights were lapping up the adulation. They turned as one to give Nigbe a smug, haughty stare, a stare that clearly said You belong out there... out of sight... Nigbe sighed and craned his head. Behind the cavalry escort, he espied Merrin dutifully following with a heavily-laden mule. Suddenly Nigbe felt the the tug of an unfamiliar concept: Friendship. He did have friends and at least one of them was going with him. Nigbe's heart lightened. Almost. Until he realised with a depressing lurch, that he would inevitably, let his only friend down.....

Page 8

Nigbe glanced over his shoulder and saw the crowds spilling out through the main city gates, still cheering wildly. The Champions' Companions trotted sedately past, ignoring the hallabaloo. Nigbe noticing the crowds' enthusiasm waved back or rather beckoned them on, hoping that maybe a substantial few would actually tag along for the Quest itself. He always figured that if you're going to meet danger head-on, it was best to have a lot of people infront of you, to lessen the impact first. Unfortunately for Nigbe, the crowds weren't that stupid and a mile out, Dahar's walls had become a distant blip and the cheering crowds, an even more distant memory.
Nigbe rode his horse, deep in contemplation; contemplating on how to make his getaway. However, his attempts at bolting, were hampered by three factors. One, as Kadala Champion, Nigbe had to lead from the front and that precluded any surreptitious moves essential to effect such an escape. Two, Lord Jalen with his lightning reflexes, followed at a shadow's length and thus could easily grab Nigbe's reins or Storm's tail even before Nigbe could break into a sweat let alone a gallop. Three, Nigbe doubted very much if any of his plans matched any of Storm's plans. Storm had been compliant so far, because they'd been walking, and walking in a straight line, at that. Only the Gods knew what would happen if Nigbe dug his spurs into Storm's flanks. But Nigbe suspected that hitting the ground hard and hoof imprints would somehow figure prominently in the consequences.
– ' Are you alright Benefactor? You look . . . constipated, ' Jalen enquired politely.
Nigbe gave Jalen a sour look, – ' I'm thinking. '
Jalen smirked, – ' Ahh, I see . . . '
The group carried on in silence. The Companions cool and relaxed; Merrin calm and wary; Nigbe miserable and . . . miserable. At last they came upon a crossroads. Nigbe paused to smile. He ahemmed loudly and started for the left-hand fork. A louder ahem from Lord Keskellion, stopped him.
– ' I believe we need to take the right road, Benefactor. '
Nigbe asked innocently, – ' Isn't this the right road? '
Jalen pointed smugly at some tiny pale blue peaks simmering on the horizon.
– ' The Massids are over there . . . '
Nigbe blurted, – ' Well of course I know the massids are that way, I just thought we could take the scenic route . . . go through Planoor . . . ' he whispered slyly,
– ' I hear the dancing girls there, are exquistely supple . . . ' The Companions stared blankly at Nigbe. Nigbe prompted, – ' Dancing girls? ' but to no avail.
Lord Keskellius came forward and led Nigbe's horse to tha right-hand fork, – ' We go this way . . . '
Nigbe piqued, – ' It was just a suggestion. '
Jalen explained, – ' It's better not delay your destiny, Benefactor . . . '
Nigbe muttered petulantly, – ' Why shouldn't I? The Sycalla will still be waiting for us . . . ' and added under his breath, – ' Hopefully, old and decrepit . . . '
The sun was low with orange streaks flecking the sky. Nigbe's stomach growled. Merrin's earlier light lunch of cold meats and flat bread had obviously been forgotten by Nigbe's stomach. It growled again.
Nigbe faced his companions – ' I'm hungry. ' Nigbe noted the soft grass underneath and a tall tree with broad welcoming branches. He pointed to it and ordered, – ' Let's make camp there . . . '
Keskellion reordered, – ' We'll rest at the village of Kayrre. '
Nigbe complained, – ' But that's still two or three hours away! '
Keskellius confirmed, – ' We'll rest at the village of Kayrre. '
Nigbe continued his objections, – ' But it'll get dark soon! '
– ' Not for at least another two or three hours . . . ' Jalen observed helpfully.
Nigbe sulked, – ' Look, I took your advice about Planoor, but I really think– '
Keskellion reiterated, – ' We'll rest at the vill– '
Nigbe interrupted, mimicking irritably, – ' We'll rest at the village of Kayrre!! ' He folded his arms defiantly, – ' I'm in charge and I say, we– ' Suddenly the three knights closed around Nigbe. They glared threateningly at him.
Nigbe gulped, – ' . . . and I say . . . we'll rest at the village of Kayrre . . . '
Keskellion bowed and smiled tightly, – ' As you wish Benefactor . . . '
Jalen added, – ' A wise choice Benefactor. '
As Nigbe led his group onwards, he muttered, – ' Oh yes, I always make wise choices, that's why I'm in charge . . . '

Coloured lanterns swaying in the gentle night breeze, lit up the village of Kayrre. People had gathered and an atmosphere of awe and celebration filled the air. A committee of village Elders greeted the Kadala Champion – ' Welcome honoured guests . . . Come and refresh yourselves at our Table . . . ' They led the group to the Long Hall where a plain but plentiful feast awaited them. Nigbe sat on the cushioned chair and ogled the pretty village maids who attentively served him his food. He sighed contentedly; his decision to stopover at Kayrre had been a good
decision afterall: A good decision for many reasons . . .
It was the middle of the night when Nigbe dragged himself from his comfortable bed, a little reluctantly. But he knew that the time was right. Her stealufully crept into the hallway and sneaked over to the door opposite. He put his ear to the door. Loud and erratic snores brought a smile to his face: The time was definately right. Nigbe descended the inn's wooden staircase, each creaky floorboard making him panic and glance nervously at the closed door. The door remained shut. Nigbe reached the stables with immense relief; this was getting easier. He looked over at the corralled horses and paused to stick his tongue out at Storm. Storm neighed in indignation. Merrin sleeping in the corner, shifted slightly. Nigbe held his breath. Merrin returned to deep slumber. Uneasy feelings pricked Nigbe but he manfully trampled them down. Besides he justified, once the knights discovered him missing, they'd have no choice but to return to Dahar and choose another Kadala Champion: Merrin would get Home safely enough. Nigbe quickly picked an innocous looking mare and took her outside. He flung his saddlebags on and raised his foot to the stirrup, only to lower it again slowly and carefully. Nigbe's plan had hit a slight snag. Nigbe swallowed fearfully and glimpsed in horror at the cold blade of a sword pressed against his throat . . . . .

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Page 8 Winner: Iain Dunn from Co. Cork, Ireland

Deadline for Page 9: 21st May 2005