of an explanation he could take of the problems Ditherer’s mother had had
with her bottom.
“Company. My friend, Roland, seems to have an Amazon arrow sticking
out of his chest. I gave him a good shake, but he’s still got his eyes closed. I
reckon he might be dead, God rest his little elfish soul. I don’t want to be
wandering round these woods on my own; it might be dangerous. So I
thought I’d tag along with you two, if that’s okay? We could be Forest-
buddies.”
“One moment, please. We need to confer.”
Halfshaft took Cherry’s arm, and pulled her to one side. “What are we
going to do with him?”
“Adopt him or kill him. It’s your call.”
“I don’t want to adopt him. He’s really irritating.”
“Kill him, then.”
“It would be like drowning a puppy.”
Cherry shrugged. “He’s got to go sometime. It’s him or us, remember.”
“Maybe he’d be useful. Three heads are better than one.”
She looked doubtful. “He doesn’t look useful. He’s wearing a luminous
mankini and a pirate’s eye-patch. I guess maybe we could use him as a
decoy, though. Feed him to the wolves to slow them down when they pick
up our scent.”
“Wolves?” asked the wizard. “None of the Candidates are wolves.”
“The wolves I freed from the Circus came from here. They’ll be back here
by now. Homing instinct, and all that. They didn’t look particularly well fed.
It’s only a matter of time before we bump into them. The clowns, too.”
“Clowns don’t come from forests!”
“They’re not clowns though, are they? They’re wolves inside clowns.
Haven’t you got that yet?”
Ditherer wandered over. “What are we talking about?”
“Whether or not we should kill you,” Cherry informed him.
“Well that’s not very nice, is it?” Ditherer scolded. “I come over here,
offering you the hand of friendship, and you start whispering away in the
corner, deciding whether to kill me or not. Well, if you’re talking about me,
you can do it in front of me. Go on. Make your decision, and have done with
it.”
“I’m sorry.” Halfshaft apologised. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just that -”
“I can’t believe that you’re thinking of murdering me in the woods. Talk
about adding insult to injury. Or injury to insult. Or whatever way round it
is. I thought we were friends. I thought we’d be Forest-buddies!”
“What do you reckon then?” Cherry enquired. “Shall we do him in?”
Halfshaft wriggled uncomfortably, feeling that he had been rather put on
the spot. It was bad enough deciding whether his oafish prison-mate should
die, but to do it in his presence was more than he could bear. There was no
hiding place this way; no prospect of blaming Cherry for the decision. He
looked over at her, pleading for her to make the decision for him, but she
just looked back at him, awaiting his verdict. It was Sod’s Law that this was
the one time she had chosen to consult him, just when he wanted to leave
the decision entirely to her.
“What do you think?” he enquired.
“I say kill him,” she replied. “But it’s your call. If you think he might be
useful later on, then that’s fine with me.”
Ditherer looked at Halfshaft expectantly. “Uncle,” he said. “I trust you to
do the right thing.”
The wizard sighed. How could they execute him after that?
“Okay, you can come with us,” Halfshaft ruled. “But on one condition; no
dithering. We can’t have you slowing us down while you ramble on and on
about whatever it is that you ramble on about when I’m not listening.”
“No dithering,” promised Ditherer, giving the wizard a big hug and a kiss
to show his gratitude for sparing his life. “No dithering at all, I promise.”
“There’ll be others along here soon,” Cherry said. “Come on, we’ve got to
keep moving.”
She set off along the path, with Halfshaft close behind her. Ditherer stayed
put.
“I wonder whether this way might be better?” Ditherer pondered, pointing
back in the direction he had just come from.
Halfshaft groaned. “Why didn’t we kill him when we had the chance?”
#
An estate agent might have described it as a homely cave, but it was more
of an overhanging rock with space enough for three people to sit beneath it.
The left hand side was curtained with tree-trunks, but the right side was
open, as was the front.
The three of them sat beneath the boulder. Ditherer suggested using the
white paint to brighten up their new home, but the others ignored him.
Cherry reasoned that there must be some reason why they had been supplied
with paint, and all would become clear in the fullness of time. Had it been a
prettier colour, she might have been tempted though.
“What’s for lunch?” Ditherer enquired.
“Whatever you can catch,” Cherry told him.
“But you’re the woman,” Ditherer retorted. “You’re in charge of cooking
and suchlike.”
Halfshaft froze. Takina would not have taken this comment well, and he
was expecting a similar reaction from Cherry. But she seemed considerably
more laid back about the remark than he had expected.
“I am in charge of “suchlike”. I’m very good at “suchlike”, ask anyone.
But if you think I’m going to swap my shiny bikini for an apron, then you’re
even madder than I took you for.”
Ditherer grumbled, but to no avail. He changed tack.
“What about the cleaning, then? It’s filthy in here. Can you just toddle
round with a broom?”
“I don’t do brooms. And I certainly don’t do toddling.”
“Bit of a dust, then? There’s a good girl.”
Cherry looked at Halfshaft with one eyebrow raised. He shrugged. Maybe
he should have let her kill Ditherer when they had the chance. It would have
put them all out of their misery.
All of a sudden, Cherry tensed up. She put her index finger to her lips,
motioning them to silence. The wizard listened, but could hear nothing.
Ditherer opened his mouth to speak, but she repeated the “shushing” gesture
with urgency, and he thankfully clamped up.
Seconds later, they heard talking. Someone was standing above them, on
top of their rock.
“They came this way.”
Halfshaft fought back the panic. It sounded like Bastard.
“We find them, we kill them.”
Yes; it was Bastard all right.
“Okay,” replied a hesitant voice. The wizard could hardly have failed to
recognise it. It was Young Halfshaft. It was him, forty or fifty years ago. He
didn’t know what would be worse; being torn apart by a vengeful troll, or
being killed by his past self. He tried to reassure himself that this was all part
of the plan; he and Cherry had to die so Takina’s team could triumph and
return safely home, but right here, right now, it didn’t seem like much of a
consolation at all.
And then the troll jumped down from the boulder, landing just a couple of
yards in front of their inadequate hiding place. His back was turned to them,
as he viewed the Forest, looking for signs of his prey. Halfshaft held his
breath, convinced that the game would be up if he made the slightest noise.
He prayed that Ditherer would not choose this moment to enquire whether
Cherry was planning on doing the washing-up.
Young Halfshaft appeared round the open side of the rock, having made
his way down the side rather than taking the direct vertical route. As he
walked over to join his partner, he caught sight of the three of them out of
the corner of his eye. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, in two
minds whether or not to denounce them to the troll.
“We find them, we kill them,” Young Halfshaft agreed. He cast an anxious
look towards them over his shoulder. “Let’s get after them, then. Before they
get too far ahead.”
“We’ll make a troll of you yet,” nodded Bastard. And then he was off,
bounding into the trees with an anxious young wizard running along behind
him as quickly as he could manage.
Halfshaft exhaled a sigh of relief. “He saved us. No, actually, I saved us.
Well done me!”
“Who was he?” asked Ditherer. “He reminded me of someone.”
“I wonder who?” asked Halfshaft, his voice dripping sarcasm.
“I think it was Bobby, my old dog. He had the same nose as him.”
“Is it too late to kill him?” the wizard whispered to Cherry. “As slowly and
painfully as you like.”
#
They stayed beneath the rock until they got hungry, and then they stayed
there some more. Ditherer had in fact been complaining all day of hunger
pains, and demanding to know when Cherry was going to bake him a pie,
but his companions had paid him as little attention as was possible. His
constant references to food had made them all ravenous, but Cherry had
insisted that they stay by the boulder, reasoning that it would be safer to let
the other Candidates fight it out amongst themselves while they kept their
heads down. That way, there would only be a couple of Candidates for them
to deal with when they ventured out. It was a sound plan, though Ditherer
had pointed out that, given the choice between her womanly tactics and a
nice pie, he would choose the pie every time.
She had offered to go out foraging on her own, but Halfshaft would have
none of it. She was the only one of them who had any fighting skills at all,
and he was uncomfortable at the thought of being separated from her, even
for a short while. Besides, if she was hunting she would need the dagger,
which would leave him only with the paint-pot and his wits for protection,
and he didn’t have a great deal of confidence in either right now.
It was agreed that they would all go foraging the following day. They
couldn’t allow themselves to go too long without food, or they wouldn’t
have the strength to make it to the hut, even if the other Candidates
succeeded in killing each other. Cherry also felt that there was only so long
that the Circus would let them take such a passive role in proceedings. If
they stayed put for too long, they were likely to send in some creature or
other to make things more entertaining for “the viewers at home”. So,
despite Ditherer’s constant whining about his “rumbly tummy”, they were
still sheltering beneath the rock at nightfall.
It took the wizard a long time to get off to sleep. Being hungry didn’t help;
it was hard to nod off with your stomach demanding supper. Ditherer made
things worse. Even after his companions had turned in for the night, he
continued to witter on about all the food he would eat if he was back home
in his dear little kitchen, and it transpired that he had a very healthy appetite
indeed.
“Ever eaten dragon?” he asked.
“No such thing as dragons,” Halfshaft snapped. “Go to sleep.”
“I beg to differ, Uncle. I bought a couple of pounds of it from a travelling
salesman just a couple of years ago. Nice fellow; gave me it for half-price
cos it was a little bit crusty round the edges. Apparently dragon meat is often
crusty, though. It’s all those flames, you see. Dries it out.”
“Go to sleep.”
“Do you know what it tasted like? Friend? Do you know what it tasted
like?”
“Please go to sleep.”
“This’ll make you laugh. Chicken! Who would have thought it, eh? A great
big thing like that, tasting like a little-bitty hen! I nearly wet myself
chuckling at the thought of it. Funny thing is, I don’t like chicken, so I was
a bit of a waste of money really!”
“Shut up!” shouted an exasperated Halfshaft. He had had about as much as
he could cope with, and more besides. “Go to sleep!”
“That wasn’t very clever, Uncle,” Ditherer scolded him. “Screaming out
like that, like a big old girl. That troll would have heard, and no doubt he’ll
be on his way back by now, to kill us all in our beds. Well, not in our beds,
cos we haven’t got beds. But you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Oh well. Can’t be helped. Anyway, I’ll wish you a good night. I’m off to
beddy-byes now. It’s been a long old day, I think you’ll agree.”
Ditherer turned away, and snuggled up beneath the overhanging rock as
best he could.
“Okay, okay. Good night.”
“Ssshhhh! Some of us are trying to get some sleep, here!”
#
Halfshaft awoke. There was someone sitting astride his pelvis. He daren’t
open his eyes. He knew it wouldn’t be Cherry, which meant that it could
only be one person. The thought of seeing a large man in a green mankini
sitting on his “bits” was more than he could stomach.
“Look, Ditherer, I’m very flattered and everything, but you’re really not
my -”
“Not Ditherer.” A female voice. It didn’t sound like Cherry, but who else
could it be?
He took a gamble, and opened his eyes. There was a naked woman
straddling him. A particularly beautiful naked woman, who was rubbing her
hands seductively across his black-vested chest.
“Latex,” she whispered. “You naughty boy.”
She leant forward and nibbled his neck. “Are you ready for me?”
He looked around. Ditherer was sound asleep; Cherry was nowhere to be
seen.
“Don’t worry about him; I’ve taken care of it. He’ll be asleep for a little
while yet. So it’s just the two of us. Are you ready to play?”
She bounced up and down in the saddle, keeping eye contact with him the
whole time.
“Not yet,” he choked. “But give it a minute or two. I’m not as quick out of
the blocks as I used to be.”
She giggled. “We’ll see about that.”
“There you are!” A male voice, irritable and agitated, from close by.
Halfshaft groaned. He knew what was coming next. He had been here
before.
During previous adventures, he had inadvertently ended up in Hell. Worse
still, in an ill-judged attempt at escape, he had ended up in the maximum
security wing, with all the very worst offenders. These were not people who
had forgotten to return their library books on time; these were the people
who had carried out the very worst of crimes against humanity (and others).
Whilst there, he had been seduced by Areola, the succubus who was even
now trying to coax him into providing her with the attention she craved. And
he had also come across her jealous husband (no pun intended); Choad, the
incubus.
As a wizard, Halfshaft had attended regular seminars on the supernatural
during his studies (well, maybe regular was putting it too strongly, but he
had turned up on three or four occasions in twelve years). He knew that a
succubus was a female demon, who came to men in their dreams, seduced
them and stole their love-juice. They would then pass it on to their lover, an
incubus, so that he could use it to impregnate human females. He had vague
idea from these lectures that this was supposed to be a wicked and evil thing
to do, but he couldn’t really see the down side himself. The human female
concerned got to have a baby using his much sought after, top quality
wizard’s love-juice, and he got to have a gorgeous naked woman rubbing
herself briskly against his private parts in the middle of the night. There were
no losers, as far as he could see. It was just like bees passing pollen from
one flower to another, even if it was a little stickier than that in practice.
There was one fly in the ointment, though, to continue the insect analogy.
And that was Choad, the succubus’ husband. As an incubus, he didn’t have
the equipment to impregnate women himself. Instead, he had a horizontal
ridge, the size of an index finger imbedded beneath the flesh where his groin
should have been, which Halfshaft judged to be of little or no use to anyone.
It was for this reason that he had to rely on his wife to collect semen from
other men, for him to distribute to the female population of the planet.
Ordinarily, an incubus was more than happy with this arrangement. But
Choad was different. He was far from comfortable with the thought of his
wife flitting round at night, straddling strange men, and he never missed an
opportunity to raise the issue with her, much to her irritation.
Areola sighed. “Here I am. Doing my job.”
“You don’t have to enjoy it so much, though, do you?”
Halfshaft was uncomfortable. It was not the most relaxing feeling in the
world to witness a married couple having a domestic row, especially whilst
the man’s naked wife was squatting over his most intimate wizardly body
part. As a result, he was now fast subsiding, and all her hard work had gone
to waste.
“I think I’ll be off,” he said. “Leave you two to it.”
“You’re going nowhere,” she told him. “Now just lie there like a good boy,
and I’ll see to you in a minute.”
Halfshaft nodded weakly. There didn’t seem to be much else he could do
in the circumstances. It would be rude to push her off if she was intent on
staying.
“I’m not having this. How many times do we have to have this
conversation?” Areola asked in exasperation. “I collect it, you dish it back
out again. No collection, no distribution. What part of that don’t you
understand?”
“You called him a naughty boy. You’re flirting. How is that necessary to
what we do?”
“I’ve got to get in the mood. I’m not a robot. I’d be as dry as a witch’s tit
if I didn’t get a little foreplay in first. It’s just a lubrication issue; what’s so
wrong with that?”
Choad stepped into Halfshaft’s field of vision. He was naked. Halfshaft
couldn’t help but stare at the ridge where his genitals should have been. No
wonder that the poor demon was so insecure.
“Look at him,” said Choad in disgust. “That beardy old man. That beardy
old man in a leotard.”
“Tell me about it!” exclaimed Areola. “I’m still trying to work out how I
can prise him out of it! I’ll need to bring scissors next time!”
“How could you, though? With that?”
“Excuse me,” Halfshaft protested. “I can hear you, you know!”
“I’ve got serious doubts whether you’re going to get anything out of him,”
Choad went on, ignoring the wizard’s outburst. “It probably withered up and
died years ago. And even if you do manage to coax a few dribbles out of
him, what am I supposed to do with it? I’ve got my reputation to think of. If
my ladies start having scrawny, bearded babies, then I’ll end up a laughing
stock.”
“My women?” said Areola icily. “You tell me off for doing my job, and
then you talk about “my women”? Talk about double-standards, you
hypocritical old cuckold.”
Choad flinched. He stared at her for a moment or two. His chin started to
wobble, and all of a sudden he was in floods of tears. “It’s you that cuckolded
me, though, isn’t it? Why do you do this to me, Areola? Why do you do this?
Can’t you see how much I love you? But still you creep out every night,
looking for freaks like this, when all the time it’s tearing me into little
pieces.”
She climbed off Halfshaft, and ran to Choad’s side. They hugged. “I’m
sorry,” she told him, stroking his hair. “I’m sorry. But this is what we do.
You’ve got to get over this. If we don’t keep working, we’re back downstairs
again.”
“I can’t get over it,” he sobbed. “I’ve tried, but I can’t.”
“You must.”
He pulled himself together. “Promise me you don’t enjoy it.”
She gestured towards Halfshaft, lying spread-eagled on the ground in his
little latex leotard. “Do you really need to ask that?” she enquired. “Just look
at him, for Goodness’ sake!”
He nodded, and gave her a brave smile. “Go on, then,” he said. “Finish
your business. I’ll wait for you by the river. It’s okay, really it is. I’ll be fine.
Just promise me you’ll be quick.”
And then he was gone.
Areola stared after him, in two minds whether to go after him or not. She
reached a decision. She took a deep breath, and turned back to Halfshaft,
suddenly all seductive smiles again.
“Where were we?” she asked, as she climbed back aboard the prone wizard.
“And where’s our little friend gone?”
Halfshaft humphed. “No,” he pouted. “I don’t want to now.”
She gave him a vigorous rub. “You sure about that?”
He stayed firm (well, resolute at least). “No,” he said. “The moment’s gone.
I’m keeping my “little friend” to myself, thank you very much.”
She stood back up. “Oh well,” she shrugged. “Your loss. I’m sure your
younger self won’t be so picky when I visit him.”
He pouted all the more. It was bad enough turning her down, but to do so
for the benefit of Young Halfshaft made things infinitely worse somehow.
Still, he had his principles. She had been disparaging about him to her
partner, and hadn’t helped her cause by referring to his equipment as their
“little friend”. Saying “no” was the right thing to do, however much his
hormones were trying to argue the point.
She blew him a kiss. “Later maybe. I’d wake up now if I were you. Your
friend’s just about to bash your brains out with a rock.”
And then she was gone.
#
He forced his eyes open. The last time he had done so, it was to find a
beautiful naked woman sitting astride him. This time, the picture was rather
less appealing. Ditherer was kneeling beside him, squeezed precariously into
his little lime-green mankini, a heavy stone clenched in his raised right fist.
Halfshaft sat up quickly. This brought him chest to chest with Ditherer, so
– not being keen on skin-to-latex contact with his would-be murderer – he
slumped back down again, covering his head with his arms as best he could.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m caving your head in with a rock, I’m afraid. I’m really sorry, Uncle. I
don’t want to do it at all. I wouldn’t hurt a fly normally. Not unless it was a
really noisy one.”
“Where’s Cherry?”
“She went off foraging when you nodded off. Asked me to keep look-out.
So I thought I’d bash you on the bonce with this stone here, and tell her it
was that nasty old troll what did it, when she gets back.”
“Why? Why would you do that to me? After all I’ve done for you!”
“There’s only two of us that gets out of here alive. So I thought, maybe me
and Cherry might be the ones, if you weren’t around anymore. I think she
likes me, I’ve seen her smiling whenever she catches sight of my bum in this
little swimming-suit of mine. We could run off together, and maybe get
married if the wife doesn’t find out.”
“I saved your life back there on the path. I could’ve killed you. Well, I
could have asked Cherry to kill you. Is that all the thanks I get?”
“I said I’m sorry,” Ditherer replied. “What more can I say? Now if you
could just sit still while I bash you one, Friend, I’d be really grateful. I don’t
want any trouble, really I don’t.”
Halfshaft looked up at him in astonishment. “You’re still going to do it,
now I’m awake?”
“I reckon I will. I’m twice the size of you. I don’t like violence, like I