“Magic’s just science that we don’t understand yet.”

  ― Arthur C. Clarke

  Adelfried

  An army assembled in the meadow, like a viper coiling to strike. Even under dark clouds strangling the morning sun, the sound of so many feet stomping on hard earth left little doubt as to the size of the threat. Standing atop the walls of the fort, Adelfried was safe. For now. He brushed away the ice clinging to his beard and adjusted the collar on his coat to keep the biting chill back. Why were they here at all? His fool of a brother, Harold, no doubt. Things like this always involved him. And now he was nowhere to be found.

  Harold’s oldest friend, and constant shadow, Conrad, stepped up beside Adelfried to survey the threat. He pulled his fur coat tight trying to hide the concern on his face and remained silent.

  Adelfried waited for the gaunt man to speak, but impatience got the better of him. “Is this Harold’s doing?”

  Conrad, smart enough to stay out of family squabbles, maintained a neutral expression. “We were hunting boar near the border to their lands, but not on their lands. That I am sure of. Harold may have…well he—”

  Footsteps and the plink of metal on stone came from behind them. Harold announced proudly, “I taught them a lesson. No blood. No one was hurt, except perhaps a bruising of their pride.” He moved in between Adelfried and Conrad. He held the metal staff that cradled the Root, a large purple crystal Adelfried had discovered ages ago. It was the root of all magical energy in the world—as far as Adelfried knew—and the source of seemingly unlimited power. And while he had studied it for years, there was still so much more to learn.

  Adelfried’s frustration spilled out. “Why is the Root here and not in the vault?”

  Harold brushed his long black hair back like he hadn’t a care in the world and smiled. “Addy, do you not see the army before us? What if we need it? Merely a precaution if things turn poorly. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

  Adelfried slammed his fist down on the stone wall in front of him. “Why are they even here? We have lived for years out of their gaze, without incident, and within the last few weeks you have managed to undo all of that. First this mishap at the waterfall and now this. What did you do?”

  “Nothing like the unfortunate incident at the waterfall.” Harold held his free hand up as if he were giving an oath. “I am a changed man. I swear it.”

  This couldn’t be good. “Out with it. What did you do?”

  “They came onto our land and claimed we were poaching their game.” Conrad nodded, confirming the story wasn’t exaggerated as Harold was prone to do. “They drew swords and were even about to take the boar we caught.” He paused to pick a piece of white fuzz from his black coat and flicked it over the wall. He was so damn vain. After a quick visual check for any additional lint, he continued, “And so instead of resorting to violence, I taught them a lesson like you might teach a child who tries to take something that doesn’t belong to them.”

  Adelfried squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You taught them a lesson? Over ten years we have lived here peacefully. And now look.” Adelfried pointed to the army. “So, what glorious lesson did you teach them?”

  “I…” Harold shrugged. “Well…you told me to focus my magical studies on the body. So, you should be proud, I have made incredible advances. For instance, I learned how to control someone’s hand.”

  “And?”

  Harold cocked his head to the side. “I made them all slap themselves as a consequence of coming onto our land and insulting us. They were going to get violent. I had to do it.”

  Adelfried groaned and started to pace along the top of the fort. Would his brother ever grow up? “They don’t march an army to your door over a slap.”

  Conrad raised a finger for quiet. “Listen. The army has assembled, yet that sound. Do you hear that?” A constant clapping sound trickled through the ranks of the army. “The slaps, they have spread like a disease.”

  Like a faint burbling stew, the constant pop of hand hitting face traveled through the ranks of the soldiers.

  Harold’s eyes lit up. “Amazing.” He leaned over the battlement. “It’s like a wildfire of slaps streaking across the army. This is incredible. Who would have—”

  “No!” Adelfried seized his brother’s arm. “This is not avoiding attention.”

  “Oh, come on.” Harold grinned cheek to cheek. “This was just a happy accident. But you must be impressed. I mean look at that.”

  Adelfried released his brother and gripped the battlement in frustration. He closed his eyes. “Damn you, Harold! When will you realize this is not a game? You swore to me that you were past this childishness. You don’t know what war is.” Horrid memories of broken bodies and severed limbs from days long ago rushed back at him. His chest seized. His body numbed. I am standing on my fort walls. Screams and the sound of cutting flesh filled his mind. I am not on the battlefield. He leaned forward putting a hand on the stone crenellation and took a deep breath to steady himself. “This is a horrible path that you do not want to go down.” How could he get through to Harold? Angrily lecturing him was pointless, that much Adelfried knew. He lightened his tone. “Don’t you see? I built this village, this fort, and brought you here to prevent this very thing.”

  “Come now, brother.” Harold tapped the staff against the ground. “With the power of the Root, surely, we have nothing to fear. You said yourself, that king is vile and corrupt, sitting at banquet while his people scrape to survive, pushing around his neighbors with his army. Perhaps now is the time to set him straight.”

  Every muscle in Adelfried’s body tensed. “No magic can protect you from an unseen attack. A silent arrow to the head or an unseen dagger to the back. That is an army, they will have archers. And what if they have magic of their own? We don’t know what other magic is out there. That is why we stay here, in our fort, away from other threats. Where it is safe. I have had enough war, and this is what you are inviting. Like always you make a mess, and I have to clean it up.”

  Harold considered the army and then Adelfried before sagging like a child after a scolding. He opened his mouth to speak and then paused before finally saying, “You’re right, as always, you are right…I will make fix this. You do not need to clean up my mess.” Harold walked up to the edge of the battlement looking at the army. “After today no one will speak of this morning again. I swear it.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The fully assembled army was an impressive sight. Each soldier wore matching green cloaks and headgear tipped with a fanciful single red feather. The army, obviously not fearing the small number within the stone fort, had moved in close. The ranks of soldiers split down the middle. A group of men in beige tunics trimmed in red galloped up on horseback to the front of their lines putting them less than a stone’s throw from the walls of the fort. The largest in the group, a human melon on legs, wore a golden helmet crested with a fanciful array of peacock plumes, the king, presumably. As the melon of a king threw his weight side to side to dismount the horse beneath him grunted as it fought against the king’s girth.

  The king stepped forward pointing a sausage-like finger at the trio standing atop the walls of the fort. He bellowed loud enough for everyone in the meadow to hear. “The wickedness behind the walls of this keep stops today. The poaching of our lands, the evil, the debauchery, and the black magic, will stop! You will answer for your crimes against the gods and your unnatural ways. Surrender, and you will be shown mercy. Resist and you and yours will suffer at the hands of—” He slapped himself in the face.

  Adelfried, still furious with his brother, couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “I apologize for my brother’s lack of restraint, but surely we could have discussed this in a civilized manner without the need of an army.”

  “The time for restraint is—” The king’s left hand landed another solid blow across his face. The sound of several more slaps from in the army around him followed. He scowled before rushing his words before another slap came. “The time for restraint has passed. Surrender now!”

  Harold, fighting off a fit of laughter, shut his eyes and wiped the smirk off his face before stepping up to the bastion. “Grand king, I apologize for my indiscretion. There will be no more slaps.” He lifted the staff in the air. The Root glowed and instantly the trickle of slaps in the crowd ceased. “Now can we discuss this matter politely face to face?”

  An uneasy sensation trickled through Adelfried. He whispered, “Why would we leave the safety of our walls? What game are you playing?”

  Harold cocked his head. “If we are face to face it shows how earnest we are for peace and civility between us. Like a peace offering where we can show our true intentions. Just be ready in case they fire arrows.”

  Harold’s words held wisdom, surprisingly, but the strategy still made Adelfried uneasy.

  Conrad leaned over. “Perhaps a show of force from the safety of our walls? Peace through strength?”

  Harold snapped. “Quiet, Conrad, this is between me and Addy.”

  Surprised he was agreeing with Conrad for once Adelfried said, “Not the worst idea.”

  The king bellowed. “Very well, I will listen. You may approach, unharmed.”

  Harold put his arm around Adelfried. “Don’t worry, Addy, it will be fine. Let me clean up my mess and you will then be left alone to continue your study of the Root and fish in peace. Perhaps we could even brew some ale when this matter is done. That is what you want, right?” Harold said as he started down the steps to the main gate. “To brew and fish and study your magic in peace.”

  “Yes...” Adelfried said, following him, doubt still lingering within.

  The iron gates of the fort slid open, and the trio walked out to meet the king who tapped his sheathed sword impatiently. “I will speak plainly. Vacate these grounds and I will spare your lives. If you refuse, I will execute everyone. I have always wanted a summer home for my mistress, and this stronghold will be perfect.” The pompous expression on the king’s face made Adelfried want to slap him. He now at least understood why his brother did what he did.

  Harold, with surprising restraint, bowed and said, “We are not here to surrender our home, but we have plenty to offer. Since your love of banquet is obvious, perhaps we can offer you access to our hunting and fishing grounds for four seasons. Surely that is enough food for you, grand king, to make amends for a few slaps.”

  The king growled, “Are you mocking me?”

  Harold feigned being hurt. “Mocking you? Surely not. I am merely offering all the food you can eat for a year. Are you saying you don’t want that? Think of all the birds you could dine on and pluck for all your soldier’s pretty uniforms.”

  A smug smile formed on the king’s face. “You dullard. Vacate the grounds or I will take the fort and slaughter you all. This is my final offer.”

  Harold started with his own smug smile. “Your immense grandness, I appreciate you coming here with your grand army on this grand day. I also thank you for your grand gesture of leniency. In consideration of your monumentally, massive grandness, I am offering you a chance to surrender… and in fairness, if you do, I will not execute everyone…oh, and that is my final offer.”

  The king laughed. “You are an imbecile. You have left the safety of your walls to taunt me? A wave of my arm and my archers will cut you down in seconds.”

  Harold tilted his head forward. His tone became impish. “Go ahead, then.”

  Adelfried seized Harold’s shoulder. “That is enough. Quit vexing him.”

  Harold raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, “Does he not vex us all with that hideous helmet? How many peacocks are stark naked because of that cockamamy coif on your head? Did some bird anger you so you decided to make a trophy of its plumes?” Harold started to chortle at his own words. “Wait! No, no, no. I get it, you were hungry, weren’t you? And you figured you would eat a thousand birds so your soldiers could have those little matching feathers on their helmets. I see your generosity is as grand as your belly.”

  The king sneered, “Let’s see who’s laughing when I defecate on your bloody corpse!”

  Harold’s smile darkened. A devious glimmer peeked out of him that Adelfried had never seen. “Need to defecate? Magic of the body is my specialty! How about we give those stubborn bowels a push.” Harold’s left hand squeezed the air.

  The king’s face paled. He bent over, throwing his hands to his knees. “Arrrgh!” He grunted as wind forcefully expelled itself from the king’s backside. Harold twisted his hand in the air. The sound of porridge being slurped through a straw came forth from the royal sphincter.

  The king growled, “You will pay with your lives for this!” He turned and waddle-sloshed back to his horse, which stepped backwards in self-preservation. He waved his hand violently in the air and screamed, “Archers!”

  The twang of bows letting loose followed with a salvo of arrows.

  Adelfried threw his arms in the air visualizing a stone wall above them. The warm prickle of magic flowed through him as the conjured barrier deflected the arrows harmlessly to the ground.

  “That was not very nice!” Harold barked. “With those clogged bowels I just saved you half a day in the outhouse.” With his right hand holding the staff, he waved his free hand in the air. A cluster of archers dematerialized into loose piles of red flakes.

  Adelfried’s stomach knotted, but he kept his focus on the barrier protecting them from the waves of arrows that continued to rain down on them. “Harold, stop! There is no need for death.”

  “Addy! This fat peacock of a king is trying to kill us.”

  The king screamed, “Attack! Attack! Kill them all!”

  Harold’s voice became an eerie echo of itself. “And what do we do with insolent peacocks?” His eyes paled, becoming distant. “We roast them for the dinner table!” He thrust the staff forward in a fit of bloodlust. Flames shot forth from the Root striking the king. He exploded into a ball of fire with a deafening snap. The force threw everyone from their feet, including Adelfried, who fell backwards. His head slammed into the ground as a searing pain blurred his vision. With his concentration broken, the protective wall disappeared. A thick rain fell upon him. He struggled to get up as his head spun. The world slowly came back into view. He wiped the rain from his face. It was sticky and red. A large circle surrounding where the king once stood was now covered in a sickening film of his remains.

  Chaos gripped the army. Soldiers ran in fear. “Give me the Root, now!” Adelfried mouthed, but only a whisper came out as a throbbing pain continued to crush his head.

  Harold no longer looked like his brother. He was an unfamiliar version in a trancelike state as if feeding off the mayhem around him. With glazed eyes, he smiled at Adelfried. “I promised you, that no one would speak of this morning again.” Bolts of unnatural black lightning shot forth from his hand and the Root with a massive thunderclap. It arced from soldier to soldier across the meadow. Even horses were not spared as a massive web of dark energy sent every living thing in front of Harold into a jerking fit. In an instant, the field became still and silent.

  “Harold…” Adelfried tried to say, but he struggled to breathe. A thousand lightning-grilled corpses paired with the smell of burnt human remains turned his stomach.

  Sickness broiled within.

  He vomited.

  Harold, now serene, leaned on the staff as if it were a simple walking stick, admiring his work. He nodded before turning back towards the gate of the fort. “How about roasting that boar? I’m starved.”