Chapter 6: Chapter 6: A Timely Meeting

And that’s how I ended up bound, gagged, and roughly tossed onto the back of a horse as Poofy Pants and Co. rode us off into the distance. From my position splayed across the back of a majestic stallion, all I could see was horse-butt, so in addition to having a less-than-stellar view while we traveled, I had no clue where we were going. Probably nowhere good.

“Where are you jerks taking me?” I asked for what felt like the fifteenth time, the gag they’d put in my mouth probably making it sound something like, “Whreyujrkstkinmehch?”

“Quiet, spellcaster!” snapped Poofy Pants in response. He didn’t seem like much for conversation.

Although I couldn’t see where we were heading, I could peek over the crest of the horses behind and see where we had been. As we traveled, the grassy terrain and densely wooded forest gradually gave way to farms and cobblestone roads, and even from my limited perspective, I started to make out houses and people. The wooden homes looked similar to Sam’s and Lucille’s, and the people in and around the buildings seemed busy doing, uh, medieval stuff.

I think I saw a few older men playing chess, a couple of mothers caring for their screaming children, and someone repairing a hole in their roof, but it was hard to get a vivid picture because, again, horse butt. Also, if this was medieval times, was I supposed to call these people peasants? Was that an actual term to refer to someone of a certain class, or was that an insult if you thought someone was poor? I seriously regretted not paying more attention in history class.

“Open the gate!” cried one of the knights, and a few moments later, I heard the creaking of rusty metal as something large was moved in front of us. I was no genius, but if I was in the Middle Ages and there were big metal gates involved, it sounded like we were heading towards a castle.

The knights rode their horses forward, and as we continued our quest to who knows where, I spotted what looked like a town square filled with ever more people and a massive stone wall that encircled the entirety of my limited perspective.

The townsfolk stared at me with open curiosity as we passed. I winced in sympathy, seeing how gaunt and tired everyone appeared and how threadbare and tattered their clothes were. I wasn’t sure if there were actually some bigger issues going on in this kingdom or if living in the Middle Ages just sucked. Probably a bit of both.

The horses finally came to a stop in front of something I actually recognized: a stable. Poofy Pants and his men dismounted, and one of the larger guys roughly dragged me off the horse and set me on the ground. My hands were still bound, but at least I could move my feet, though I doubted Poofy Pants would just let me walk away.

“This way,” snapped Poofy Pants as he and his men led me down a long, winding path littered with dozens of shops and homes.

“Can you ungag me now?” I asked, the rough rope really starting to chafe my face. However, with my mouth still bound, I think “cagyougagmeyown?” was probably unintelligible.

We rounded a corner, and I let out a muffled gasp as we came face to face with a giant castle, just like the kind you’d see in the history books at school. What was different, however, was that this wasn’t some weathered and beaten thousand-year-old piece of ancient architecture; it was brand-spankin’ new! Beautiful flags displaying the kingdom’s colors of blue and white flapped along the pointed rooftops, and dozens of guards in gleaming armor stood at attention near the front entrance. If I had to use a single word to describe the castle, I’d use majestic, and although I doubted living in a house made of stone was all that comfortable, at least it was easy on the eyes. I wondered if I’d ever seen a photo of this place in a magazine or at school.

We entered through a set of large metal doors at the front of the castle. I saw all sorts of classic medieval memorabilia as we stepped inside. Lit torches adorned the walls, and fancy banners hung from the ceiling. I even spotted a jester working on his juggling routine in the hallway. From the increasingly loud and frustrated swearing I heard from the guy as we walked past, it sounded like he needed more practice.

Poofy Pants led me through several more rooms of the castle until we came to a long flight of stone stairs. He shoved me forward, clearly wanting me to go up. Being bound and gagged, I didn’t really have a lot of other options but to comply, and several minutes and one burning pair of thighs later, we finally made it up to a large chamber with heavy-looking doors at the end and a lone guard standing at attention.

“Afternoon, Inquisitor,” said the guard as he offered a crisp salute to Poofy Pants. He was a younger guy, tall with black hair. He was dressed in armor, but with no helmet. The earliest signs of a goatee growing on his otherwise smooth chin.

“Open the door, Thomas,” said Poofy Pants, waving his hands impatiently, “we need to see the king.”

Thomas frowned, shuffling his feet. “Apologies, Your Excellency, but the king is currently meeting with some of his other subjects; you’ll need to wait your turn.

“Bah!” grumbled Poofy Pants, “Tell him it’s important. We found a witch while out tax collecting and need to try her for her crimes.”

“A witch?” repeated Thomas, his eyes growing wide as he turned to stare at me. Getting a better look at the guy, he seemed to be around my age, maybe sixteen or seventeen. I guess there wasn’t school in the Middle Ages, so maybe teens entered the workforce faster.

“Wow, a real spellcaster,” Continued Thomas, face beaming with obvious delight. “That’s incredible!”

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We all gave Thomas a weird look; he cleared his throat, looking off to the side. “What I meant is, it’s good that you captured such a menace to society!” spat out Thomas, actually spitting on the carpeted floor for good measure. Gross.

Poofy Pants tapped his foot impatiently and checked a miniature sundial strapped onto his wrist. We were inside, so I doubted it could even tell time. “How long are we supposed to wait out here,” he huffed. “I’m having my mustache waxed in an hour!”

“If you don’t mind a suggestion, m’lord,” replied Thomas with the slightest of bows, “I’m sure you and your men are weary from such a long day of faithfully serving the king. Why don’t you drop by the feasting hall and grab something to eat while you wait? I hear turkey legs are on the menu.”

The men all perked up at that. “They’re serving actual meat today?” asked Poofy Pants, he and the knights all licking their lips.

Thomas gave them a polite smile. “Our trappers caught a couple of birds this morning; bet the meat is still fresh.”

That did it. Poofy Pants and his men spun in unison and hurried back down the stone stairs. “We’ll be right back.” Called Poofy Pants, already out of sight. “Watch over the witch for us.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” replied Thomas with a friendly wave as Poofy Pants and Co. quickly descended the stairs.

My stomach grumbled; I could go for some turkey legs right about now, too, but more importantly…I cast a side glance at Thomas. Now that we were alone, I was weighing my odds of escaping. Yeah, he was a fully-armored knight and most likely a highly-trained military professional, but counterpoint, I was a 14-year-old girl who hadn’t been to the gym in years, and my hands and mouth were bound with rope; I totally got this.

“Is it true you can cast spells?” Asked Thomas, interrupting my train of thought and getting uncomfortably close to me. One of his long pointer fingers hovered just inches away from my arm, like he wanted to poke me but was afraid of what would happen.

“Icyantchastspuellz.” I mumbled through my gag.

Thomas frowned, trying and seemingly failing to decipher my words. He reached behind my head, and I felt his hands nimbly working at the rope. A few moments later, my gag fell to the floor.

“Better?”

I spat a few rope fibers out of my mouth. “Yeah, thanks.” Pretty sure I was going to be tasting rope for days after this.

“It must be so cool being able to do magic,” resumed Thomas, his eyes never seeming to blink as he stared at me. “What kind are you?”

“Kind?” I asked, taking a step back to get some space.

Thomas nodded eagerly, taking a huge step forward. “I’ve heard there are all different kinds of magical affinities: fire, ice, lightning, death, time.” He was speaking so fast now it was hard to keep up, “What kind of magic do you specialize in?”

Okay, this whole magic thing had been kind of cute when everyone thought Gerard was a disembodied head living inside my laptop, but it was a lot less cute when it ended up with me getting assaulted and kidnapped away to a castle.

“I’m not magical,” I said flatly. Not even two seconds later, my phone vibrated and began to play a loud, musical tune, that echoed across the room. That was my phone’s daily reminder to practice Swahili for the Hamlet auditions. I grimaced as I was reminded about Hamlet and my failure to get the lead role. Great, now I was lost in time and depressed.

Thomas gasped, eyes as wide as saucers. “Magic!” He practically shouted, pointing with glee at my backpack where my phone had been stowed.

“No!” I said, exasperated, trying to wave my arms but realizing they were still tied with rope. “I don’t have magic, I just, whatever–.” I stared up at Thomas and turned on my puppy dog eyes. Poofy Pants could be back any moment, so I didn’t have time to fool around.

“I didn’t do anything wrong; this is all a big mistake.” I said, voice quavering and eyelashes fluttering, “Can you get me out of here, pretty please?”

Thomas frowned, shifting his weight from foot to foot again, “Definitely not supposed to do that.” he said after a moment, “If anyone found out I’d helped a witch escape, I’d be banished from the kingdom, if not killed on the spot.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” I said, disappointed but not surprised. “Guess I’ll just have to use my quick wit and effortless charm to save the day.”

Thomas stared at me appraisingly, “Y’know you’re not like the other witches I’ve met.”

I gave him a weird look, “And how many other witches have you met?”

He blushed, looking embarrassed. “Well, none technically, but I’ve always been told that witches and other spellcasters are agents of pure evil and usually pretty ugly too.”

Well, at least he didn’t think I was ugly. “Small comfort,” I chuckled, “but like I already said, I’m not a witch.”

Thomas took a step back, face suddenly serious. “Then does that mean you’re a…wizard?” he asked, scrutinizing my face and body.

“Do I look like I have a beard?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Not all wizards have beards,” said Thomas defensively, “well, I assume they don’t; I’ve never actually met a wizard either.”

Thomas and I stared at each other and burst into laughter. Maybe it was just the stress of the day getting to me, but it felt good to laugh, even if only for a moment. This Thomas guy seemed alright, even if he had thought I was a dude.

We were interrupted by the sound of loud chewing and the cracking of turkey bones echoing up from the staircase; it sounded like Poofy Pants and his friends had finished raiding the pantry.

“Blasted Sorceress!” yelled Thomas suddenly, spittle flying into my face, “An eternity in the nine hells would not be punishment enough for one as vile as you!”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” whispered Thomas sheepishly, “Can’t look like I was fraternizing with the enemy. It was nice knowing you, though.”

“Don’t you mean it was nice meeting me?”

Thomas suddenly took an intense interest in the ceiling and wouldn’t meet my gaze. Fantastic.

A few moments later, the Poofy Gang made it up the final set of stairs, polishing off massive legs of turkey and licking the grease from their fingers.

“It’s been ages since I’ve gotten a decent meal,” sighed Poofy Pants contentedly, absently wiping his hands off on a nearby tapestry. “Thomas, how did we end up with such a delicious bounty?”

“A couple of our trappers snuck past the blockade,” replied Thomas, standing back at attention and continuing to avoid looking at me. “They found a nest of turkeys under an old oak tree and couldn’t resist taking ‘em back to the castle.”

“A stupid decision, " chided Poofy Pants, snatching a half-eaten turkey leg from one of his knights and tearing into it, “but definitely appreciated.” Poofy Pants shot me a dirty look, “I take it you didn’t cause Thomas too much trouble, witch?” I didn’t respond, hoping he wouldn’t realize my gag had been undone.

The large doors Thomas had been guarding suddenly swung open with a metallic creak. Exiting from the other side was a young girl no older than eight and a woman who looked like her mother. The woman stared down at the floor, her face an expressionless mask; the girl was fighting back tears and clearly losing the battle. Before I could ask what that was all about, I felt myself being grabbed from both sides by two of the knights and yanked forward toward the open door. Poofy Pants smiled at me toothily. “Looks like we’re up.”