The Halfshaft Games by Jonathan Pidduck - HTML preview

EPILOGUE

She awoke in a hospital bed, with tubes protruding from all sorts of

uncomfortable places. The Ringmaster was sitting at her bedside, dressed in

casual clothes which did not suit him.

“Cherry,” he beamed at her, as she struggled back to consciousness.

“Bastard,” she replied, and closed her eyes again to show him that the

conversation was at an end.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean to let it get quite that close. We pumped the place

full of horse tranquiliser the moment the wizard was safely in the tunnel, but

I think those vicious little monsters are developing an immunity to the stuff.”

She opened her eyes again. “You tried to kill me,” she accused.

“Only at first,” he shrugged, a half apology. “Your ratings plummeted

when you kept being rude about that little troll kid. And we weren’t too

happy that you let the wizard follow you back to HQ. But you were a triumph

at the end, Cherry, a triumph. They love you more than ever now. I’ve

brought your contract for Season Forty Four.”

He produced an envelope, and dropped it on to her bed-covers. She winced

in pain. She took a peek under the sheet. She had bruises and teeth marks all

over the place, and what felt like a couple of broken ribs.

“Bastard,” she repeated.

“Thank you. But you, on the other hand, are an absolute genius! You even

had me going for a minute. Letting the wizard take your place in the tunnel

like that, just when we thought you were going to escape. All the other guys

said it was for real, that you really wanted to save him, but I know you better

than that. He was hardly your type after all. You knew, didn’t you? You

knew we’d take you back if you sacrificed yourself to save him. The

viewers’ chat-room crashed for three hours what with all the traffic you

generated. They love you again!”

He gestured towards the contract. “Go on, then. I think you’ll be pleased

with the new figure. We have to look after our star.”

She groaned. “Why would I want to put myself through all that again? You

nearly killed me. Who’s to say you won’t make a better job of it next time?”

“Take a look at your new salary,” he urged, “and then decide.”

She shook her head. “Not interested, David. You can stick it up your arse

sideways.”

“Your popularity poll results, then. I’ve never seen anything quite like

them.”

He waved a piece of paper at her. She pretended not to notice.

“And the outfit we’ve got lined up for you next year has to be seen to be

believed. It’s pink – I know how much you like pink – and it’s shiny, and it

changes hue depending on your mood.”

She sat up, wincing in pain as she did so.

“It does?”

He nodded. “Not that you’d notice most of the time. It’s even tinier than

that shred of tinsel you were wearing this time round. It’s practically non-

existent.”

Her mood changed. If she’d have been wearing the outfit he’d just

described, it would now be a perky sparkling pink.

“Okay, one more year,” she told him. “But if you send in the clowns again,

I’m outta there.”

He moved the contract and the popularity poll results over to her bedside

cabinet, bowed theatrically, and left the room. She checked the poll results

first, before turning her attention to the contract. There was a photo in the

envelope, a still from the show, showing her swinging Halfshaft into the

time tunnel, an expression of pure panic on his face, as the clowns closed in

to mob her from behind.

She touched his anguished face gently, as if to calm him down. “Goodbye,”

she said. “I hope you have fun finding her mood switch, and that her bottom

won’t be too much of a disappointment after mine.”

And she settled back down to ruminate upon wizards, Amazons and the

shiny pink micro-bikini of her dreams.

#

Halfshaft stood in the middle of the plain, the landscape as barren and

blasted as his emotional state. He had lost Cherry, having chosen a

mechanical woman over a real one. And even the robot Takina had vanished

after he had released her hand. The tunnel had taken him in this direction,

and her in another. So much for his prize.

He wallowed in his bereavement. Cherry had sacrificed herself to save his

life. She was dead by now, no doubt, torn apart by thousands of yellow

clown fangs which would otherwise have been feasting on him. It was not

until she had abandoned her life to save his that he had realised what he was

giving up when he chose “Takina” over her. And now it was too late.

A horse appeared on the horizon, heading his way at a gallop. The rider

appeared unsteady, clinging on to his mount’s neck as if he was injured.

He wished he knew where he was; he wished he knew when he was. The

time tunnel could have taken him anywhere, anytime at all. He was in no

mood for surprises. All he wanted was to find a hole to crawl into, and lick

his wounds.

The horseman approached. He stood waiting for him. He was in the middle

of a deserted plain. What else was there to do?

“I know you can’t hear me,” he whispered, “but I’m sorry.”

The rider fell off his horse as he was endeavouring to bring his mount to a

halt. He was wearing full armour, with his visor pulled down. He struggled

to stand up. With a sigh, Halfshaft went to his assistance. He helped the man

to his feet.

The rider pulled his visor up. He knew that face.

“Alright, Mate,” said Rod. “Glad you’re here. It’s all kicking off big time

back at the castle.”

“Kicking off?”

“Fighting. Lots of it. They need us; they won’t last two minutes without

our help. Are you in?”

Halfshaft didn’t answer straightaway. Rod stared at him expectantly, like a

puppy waiting to be taken for a walk. After a while, he trotted after the horse,

trying to catch it while he waited for the wizard to come to a decision.

The wizard sighed. Was it too much to ask for one day off before he was

called upon to save the world again?

Rod returned to his side.

“Takina’s here.”

Halfshaft brightened up. “Takina? The real one?”

Rod nodded.

“Have you checked out her bottom?”

Rod nodded again. “All the time. Haven’t we all, though?”

The wizard laughed. He was glad to be back among friends again. Maybe,

just maybe, it would be easier with them around. “Count me in,” he said, his

voice barely a whisper. “What do you want me to do?”

Rod laughed, and pointed towards the distant horizon.

“You could help me catch that bloody horse for a start.”

ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR:

SLAVE-GIRLS AND AMAZONS

The first book in the “Amazons” series.

When the Hedral Watcher was in need of a warrior to defeat an all-powerful

warlock, he knew that Thane – a lethal intergalactic mercenary – was just

the man for the job. Unfortunately, he ended up with an amiable drunk, an

inept wizard with an inferiority complex, and a blonde Amazon squeezed

into a tiny squirrel-skin bikini.

As the omniscient being of the planet, the Watcher had a funny feeling that

it would all end in tragedy, unless Thane was able to vanquish the warlock

before his woefully inadequate substitutes stumbled upon his adversary’s

mountain fortress. But the band of fearless warlock-hunters had other ideas.

How hard could it be to defeat a one thousand year old shape-shifting

warlock and his army of battle-hardened troll corpses anyway?

This is the story of their trials and tribulations, as they romp through a

Tolkienesque landscape peopled by the Weird and Wonderful, such as

witches seeking men to ride for the donkey-derby; a psychotic forester with

a skeletal wife and a sinister fascination with wood-work; a band of trolls on

the look-out for virgins to sacrifice to celebrate Thursdays; and more

skimpily dressed Amazons than you can shake a spear at......

CAVE-TROLLS AND AMAZONS

Two cobbled-together armies square up across the Forest battlefield, ranks

of trolls and wizards lining up against a horde of witches, Sirens and

Amazons. But they are fighting a war neither side can hope to win.

Only a handful of people stand between them and oblivion, each of whom

has

problems

of

their

own.

Halfshaft, a failed wizard, enlists the help of a gigantic cave-troll in his

quest, but his hopes of saving the world are severely dented when he

discovers his "ferocious" companion has a lucky handkerchief.

Takina, a blonde Amazon in the tiniest of fur bikinis, has been abducted by

trollesses and set to reluctant work at a desert sex-slave market. But when

the camp is besieged, she suspects that she may have bitten off more than

she

can

swallow.

Rod, whose dearest wish is to get back down the pub before last orders, has

been co-opted on to a small but select band of witches' donkeys. But even

with the help of the wizard and the Amazon, he discovers that it is hard to

be

heroic

with

a

witch

in

the

saddle.

"Cave-Trolls and Amazons" is a colourful and imaginative quest-fantasy

romp, stuffed full of humour, adventure and squirrel-skin bikinis. Sheer

unbridled escapism from the author of "Slave-Girls and Amazons".

THE WEDDING FEAST (Book One of “The Wedding Feast” trilogy).

Philip awakes, naked and chained to the floor by wrist and ankle, in the

ramshackle dwelling of a family of murderous inbreds. His only hope of

rescue lies with Matilda, their hideously deformed and needy daughter, who

lurks in the shadows in her bloodied wedding dress. But will the price she

demands for his release – a white wedding – be too high for either of them

to pay? And will either her grotesque parents or his insanely jealous

girlfriend allow them to make it to the altar alive?

This is a black comedy about unrequited love, the dilemma a shallow man

faces in choosing between beauty and fidelity, and the problems the happy

couple face when the Groom’s potential in-laws are Hell-bent on eating him

whatever decision he makes.

TETHERED (Book Two of “The Wedding Feast” series).

Abigail awakes, naked and vulnerable, in pitch darkness. Her wrists and

ankles have been manacled to the floor. One by one, her brutal, troll-like

captors come to visit her. Time is short; she is to be the feast at their

wedding. No-one can rescue her. But can she save herself before they eat

her?

Elsewhere, three friends spring a young woman from her cage at an animal

experimentation centre. Can they stay one step ahead of the government

agent who is determined to recapture her? And was it wise for them to leave

her alone in an old caravan in the woods whilst they went off for tea and

biscuits with two frisky old-aged pensioners?

Fantasy horror and tongue-in-cheek British humour combine in this dark

and tragic sequel to “The Wedding Feast.”

THE LAST OF THE NEANDERTHALS

The third and final book in "The Wedding Feast" humorous horror series.

Matilda has spent the last ten years in the woods, foraging for anyone

foolish enough to venture into the brooding trees. But her Family has finally

summoned her home. Tired of hiding from the Outsiders in the darkness,

they are fighting back, and have chosen as their battleground the pubs and

sex-shops

of

the

sea-side

town

of

Margate.

With Georgia in pursuit, and frisky pensioners Maurice and Elsie following

along behind as fast as their artificial hips will allow, Matilda takes to the

battle-scarred streets of Thanet in a desperate attempt to save her people

from

extermination.

But, as usual, nothing goes quite according to plan....

Please note that both “The Wedding Feast”, “Tethered” and “the Last of

the Neanderthals” contain fantasy horror, strong language and scenes of a

sexual nature. Not to mention the inappropriate use of custard-creams