Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Gundam Wing and the Quest for the Holy Grail ❯ Journey to the Western Sea ( Chapter 13 )

Chapter 13: Journey to the Western Sea

“We are deeply indebted to you,” Lorene said gravely. “I shudder to think what would have happened had we been left with Keb to command the great one. I think we would all be dead now.”

“It was a fair exchange, Mistress,” Percival assured her. “The opportunity to see the words upon the altar has been of tremendous benefit to us.”

“I am glad,” Lorene replied with a smile. Her eyes fell on Roku, seated next to Quatre's feet with his tail curled around his paws. “Are you certain you are not a spirit, little one?” she asked. “I sense great power in you.”

“Mama says I am a sorcerer,” Roku replied politely, “but I'm really just a little boy.”

“Indeed? Well, perhaps someday I will have a grandson with power like yours. Then we might once again be able to summon a great spirit.”

Trowa held out the staff to her. “You must need this back, for your new master.”

Lorene waved her hand. “Oh, no, you should keep it. The staff is passed from master to master. As you have taken it from Keb, the staff is now yours.” She winked at him. “The staff has great powers, but we don't really need it for the ceremonies. It just looks impressive.”

Trowa examined the staff carefully. It was equal to him in height and intricately carved so that it resembled a snake entwined in a leafy vine. “Are you sure? It's very beautiful.”

“I'm quite sure,” Lorene said. “If you find its size inconvenient, you can fold it.”

“Fold it?” Trowa stared at the stiff wood.

“Like this,” Lorene demonstrated. She grasped the staff in both hands about a meter apart and brought them together with a quick folding motion. The staff immediately became slack as a length of rope. “To straighten it again, just do this.” She brought her hands apart quickly and the staff became straight again. “Try it.” She handed it to Trowa.

He took it from her and held it as she had, with his hands about a meter apart. He brought them together and the staff sagged into a thick loop. “I'll be damned!” Trowa exclaimed. He pulled his hands apart and the staff stiffened back to its original shape. “That's very clever.” He brought his hands together again and then looped the snake-like coil over one shoulder and under the opposite arm. “It's kind of thick; I'm not sure I can tie it,” he said as he brought the ends together. But to his complete surprise, the snakehead-end of the rope opened its jaws and clasped its tail firmly.

“That's mighty convenient,” Heero remarked.

“It's alive!” Duo exclaimed.

“I guess you could say that,” Lorene agreed with a nod. “There is a spirit in the staff, so it is alive, after a fashion.”

“We should return to our companions,” Percival said. “They will be concerned about us.”

“Of course,” Lorene said. “We will accompany you to the crossroads. I want to go look at the travel clearings the great one is making.”

It was a noisy and celebratory group that returned along the trail to the river. From the bank, Percival shouted to the knights waiting on the other side.

“Ho, there, fellow knights!” Percival called. “We return triumphant!”

“We are glad to see you!” Hagrimore called back. “We were drawing straws to see which of us would brave that rickety little bridge to come looking for you.”

Quatre and Roku promptly shimmered into falcons and flew across the river, while everyone else made their slow way one by one across the bridge.

“We're gonna have to make him teach us how to fly,” Duo complained to Wu-Fei as he waited his turn. “It's not fair he and Roku are the only ones who can go zipping around like that.”

“It's certainly worth considering,” Wu-Fei agreed.

“I'm not letting Quatre turn me into anything,” Heero said flatly. “I still remember that knight who walked like a chicken for weeks after that one incident.”

“That's true,” Trowa said.

But in time, everyone was back on the same side of the river and introductions were made all around. Then the whole party set off for the crossroads.

“So what was written on the altar?” Damodin asked.

“Treasures untold lie In the Wizard's Cave on the Western Sea,” Wu-Fei quoted.

“I've heard of the Wizard's Cave!” Damodin exclaimed. “It is supposed to lie at the base of a cliff on the coast of Cornwall, but no one knows where for certain. There is an old ballad that mentions it.”

“Do you remember the ballad?” Percival asked.

“Some of it. Let me think on it and I'll try to recall the whole thing.”

With the two groups traveling together, it made for a crowded camping space when they stopped for the night, but the druids' presence kept the sprites at bay, which improved Heero's mood. A brisk morning's travel the next day found them back at the crossroads.

“Here we must part,” Lorene said. “We will go north, but I recommend you go back the way you came. It is the shortest way out of the forest.”

“Thank you, Mistress Lorene,” Percival replied gravely. “We have been honored by this meeting.”

“You are most kind, Sir Knight,” Lorene said with a smile and a curtsey. Then she and the other druids set off on the north road and the knights turned south.

Everyone was hugely relieved when they finally escaped the woods a day later. As soon as they rode clear of its black, dripping branches, the air warmed and the afternoon sunlight seemed shockingly bright.

“I don't ever want to go into that place again!” Duo announced loudly. “I need a hot bath and a lot of sex.”

“Must you be so blunt?” Quatre exclaimed. “Remember, there are children present.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Duo grumbled. “Where's the nearest inn?”

“We passed one a half day's ride to the south,” Hagrimore said.

“I would have to say I agree with Master Duo,” Damodin said, “although perhaps not on the subject of a bath, since it is still a bit early in the season for that.”

Quatre shook his head. “You are all oversexed.”

“But it's not a bad suggestion,” Trowa said with a slight smile.

Quatre frowned at him for a moment and then he smiled too. “Fine, we're all oversexed.”

“I'd certainly like to be,” Duo said. “At the moment, I'd say I'm seriously on the low end of the scale.”

“It has been a long time,” Wu-Fei murmured wistfully.

“Perhaps my wife would forgive a moment's dalliance,” Hagrimore added.

“I'm sure that's why my wife insisted I spend some time away from home,” Mendelere put in.

Percival was dismayed. “Gentlemen, we have the next leg of our quest to consider.”

“Not until we have sex,” Duo stated firmly. “I'm not doing any more questing until I get completely, thoroughly and utterly screwed.”

“We have been pushing pretty hard, Sir Percival,” Quatre said. “I think taking a break for a few days might not be a bad idea. It's pretty far to Cornwall from here.”

There were murmurs of agreement all around, so it was decided to head for the inn for a little rest, some relaxation and lots of sex.

They arrived at the inn right at sunset.

In the dining room, Roku sat down purposefully next to Percival. “May I stay in the same room with you, Sir Percy? Everyone else is going to be very naughty. I think Mama would be happy if I stay with someone who is not being naughty.”

“Of course, little one,” Percival agreed immediately. “I think that is a fine idea.”

“Will you help me take my bath after dinner?”

“I would be honored.”

“Take your armor off first,” Quatre advised, “or it will rust.”

Percival looked a little alarmed.

Duo grabbed Heero's hand. “I want sex first! We can eat later.”

“That's a first,” said Wu-Fei. “Duo passing up a meal.”

“It's sex!” Duo exclaimed plaintively. “Come on! Come on! Come on!” He grabbed Wu-Fei's hand. “You come, too.”

Heero let out a long-suffering sigh. “I'm hungry,” he complained.

“PLEASE!”

“All right! Shit! Don't make that face.” Heero let himself be dragged from the room, along with Wu-Fei.

Trowa glanced at Quatre. “You know, I'm not all that hungry right at the moment myself.”

Quatre lifted an eyebrow at him. Trowa put his arm around Quatre's waist and Quatre smiled coyly.

“Well, it has been awhile since we were alone,” Quatre murmured.

“Quite a long while,” Trowa agreed.

“Perhaps dinner can wait.”

“I was hoping you'd say that.” Trowa led Quatre from the room.

Damodin, Hagrimore, Mendelere and Olwin were all eyeing the serving girls.

“I say, Damodin,” said Hagrimore, “why don't you reel them in and the rest of us can partake of your leftovers.” He eyed Damodin for a moment. “You will leave something for the rest of us?”

“I am a gentleman, Sir,” Damodin replied haughtily. “I would never indulge my own needs at the expense of my companions.” He looked at the serving girls and sighed. “I think everyone should have a soft breast to pillow his head tonight.” He rose and approached the nearest of the young women. She blushed and giggled as he spoke to her. After a moment, Damodin returned. “Gentlemen, I believe we are set for the night, but we may as well dine first. Our future companions have to finish serving dinner.”

“I am quite shocked by this behavior, gentlemen!” Percival admonished them.

“Don't be such an old woman, Percival!” Hagrimore replied with a laugh. “Even a gentlemen must relieve his needs every once in a while.”

Percival turned to Roku. “Young Roku, I am thankful for your innocent company.” But then he noted with some dismay that Roku's face was already slathered with a goodly portion of the gravy from his dinner. “Oh, dear!” he exclaimed. “You do need a bath.”

“There's mud between my toes, too,” Roku informed him cheerfully.

Percival sighed mournfully.

Three straight days of sex, eating and sleeping, performed more or less in that order multiple times, improved everyone's outlook tremendously. They set out on a bright sunny morning with fresh supplies, ready for the long trip to the Cornish coast. But as they got farther into the wild country in the far west, Percival became concerned.

“We must be on our guard,” he told them. “There are many independent barons in this part of the country who do not hold their allegiance to good King Arthur.”

They ran afoul of one of these barons the very next day.

As the group trotted through open rolling meadows, several armed, mounted men appeared over a rise and galloped swiftly toward them.

“Hold there!” one of the strangers shouted. “You are trespassing on the domain of Baron de Franco!”

Percival and his companions quickly halted as they were surrounded by about thirty men.

“We can fight our way out of this!” Heero whispered angrily.

“Let's try talking first,” Percival urged. “Gentlemen!” he called out. “We are just passing through. We would be pleased to pay our respects to Baron de Franco, for we are Knights of the Round Table of King Arthur's court.”

“Oh, you'll pay your respects, all right!” one man answered, “and a good sight more, to boot. You will come with us.” The Baron's men closed on them, forcing the group to ride in a new direction.

“This is stupid!” Heero growled. “There aren't that many of them.”

“Hang tough for a while, Heero,” Trowa answered softly. “Let's see what they want before we decide to slaughter them all.”

Heero was clearly not happy, but he did not start killing anyone.

A short ride across the fields brought them to a castle made of black stone sitting on a low rise. Serfs toiled in the fields around the castle. They could smell the moat while they were still quite a distance away.

Wu-Fei covered his nose. “Why couldn't we have approached the castle from upwind?” He kept his nose covered until they clattered across the drawbridge and into the castle's courtyard.

The courtyard was smaller than they expected for the size of the castle. A large wall rose up on their left, cutting off nearly two thirds of the space that would normally have been included. As they dismounted, a large richly dressed man stepped through an archway in the wall to regard the arrivals with a superior air.

“My lord Baron,” the leader of the capture party said, dropping to one knee in front of him. “We have captured trespassers.” He indicated Percival's party with one hand.

“Well, well,” Baron de Franco said in a deep, booming voice. “Sturdy knights of King Arthur's court, no doubt.”

“The very same,” Percival replied. “We are on business that does not concern you, my lord Baron, so if you'd oblige us, we'd like to be on our way.”

The Baron threw back his head and laughed. “You are not in Arthur's kingdom now, my friends. These are my lands. You must first prove to me your worth and earn the right to travel freely here.”

“Now, Sir…” Percival began.

“Silence!” the Baron roared. “If you wish to travel in my lands, you must pay tribute to me or prove through might of arms that you do not need to.” He swept his hand back to indicate the wall behind him. “You will fight in my arena against my best fighters. If you win, you may go about your business unmolested. If you lose, and do not die, you must give me your solemn oath that you will pay a tribute of one hundred gold coins.” He grinned wickedly. “In either case, you will provide us with today's entertainment.”

“It looks like you get to fight after all, Heero,” Trowa remarked.

Percival and his companions, including Roku, whom the Baron's men regarded with open curiosity, were ushered through the archway and into the arena. Once they were inside, a gate was closed behind them, locking them in. The Baron and his men appeared in seats above the wall. The Baron had a large cushioned seat under a canopy. An attractive woman took the seat beside him, which was not as large as the Baron's, but also cushioned. The rest of the wall on either side of the Baron's canopy was comprised of stone benches in rising tiers, allowing dozens of people to watch the action below.

The woman beside the Baron leaned forward. “What manner of creature is that, my husband?” She pointed at Roku. “May I have it?”

“If the creature survives, my dear, it shall be yours.”

The knights, pilots and Roku gathered against the far wall to talk.

“How many do you think he'll send against us?” Damodin asked.

“It depends on how badly he wants the money, I warrant,” Hagrimore replied. “If he wants the money, he'll send fewer to ensure that we are not all slaughtered. If he is just after the entertainment, he'll send enough to make sure we don't survive.”

“I'm really irritated!” Heero growled in a low voice.

“That does not bode well for the Baron's men,” Duo said.

“They're wasting our time,” Wu-Fei added with a dark glare.

“Master Quatre,” Olwin said nervously, “could you not do something magical to free us from this trap?”

“I could, but why?” Quatre said with a shrug. He sat down with his back to the wall. “Let Heero and Wu-Fei deal with it.”

“That's a good idea.” Duo sat down next to him. “Hey Roku, you got anything to eat?”

“Sure.” Roku sat down next to Duo and stuck his nose under one foreleg. He produced a small ham.

“Excellent!” Duo said. He took out his knife and cut off a hunk.

“Let me have some of that,” Quatre said. Duo cut off another piece for him.

Trowa sat down on Quatre's other side. “Do you have any bread, Roku?”

“Yup.” Roku produced a loaf of dark brown bread. “I got cheese, too.” He pulled that out.

“You didn't happen to snag water off one of the horses did you?”

“No, but I have some wine.” Roku produced a small wine jug.

“Where did you get that?!” Quatre exclaimed. “You shouldn't have that; you're too young!”

“I thought the jug was cute,” Roku said with a grin.

Duo took a swig. “That's not bad.”

Baron de Franco's face had gone from excited, to confused, to beet red with fury. “What do you think you're doing?” he shouted. “This is a battle arena, not a picnic area! Stand up and fight!” He waved his hand and the gate opened, admitting twenty heavily armed fighters.

Heero and Wu-Fei drew their swords.

“No fair setting them on fire before you hack them open, Fei!” Duo called.

“You may as well sit down,” Trowa said to the five knights. “You'll just get in the way.”

The knights took seats against the wall on either side of the other four. The food and wine were passed around, much to the Baron's every increasing rage.

“Attack!” Baron de Franco screamed.

The fighters charged forward with their weapons raised, shrieking their battle cries.

Heero and Wu-Fei didn't make a sound as battle was joined. They chopped their way into the wall of fighters with the efficiency of meat grinders.

“Oh! That was a pretty move!” Quatre exclaimed. “Did you see the way Wu-Fei pirouetted around that one guy and took his head off? Very nice!”

“What is it with Heero and dismemberment?” Duo said. “He can't just run them through?”

“Well, the broadsword is not really designed for skewering, like Master Wu-Fei's little pig-sticker,” Hagrimore said. “In general, it's just easier to hack things apart.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“It's impressive though,” Hagrimore continued. “To look at him, you would think Master Heero too slight to wield a broadsword with that much force.”

“Ooooh!” they all exclaimed together as Heero slammed his sword down on one man's head and split him all the way to his pelvis.

“Ahhhh!” they all exclaimed again as Wu-Fei leaped through the air, flipping over the heads of two fighters and slitting their throats as they stared up at him in surprise.

Only four fighters remained and they were all clustered against the gate, begging to be let out, their eyes round with terror.

Heero and Wu-Fei regarded them calmly.

“What do you think?” Heero said.

“You can have them,” Wu-Fei replied. He tore a bit of shirt off the nearest body and cleaned his sword.

Heero approached the terrified fighters resolutely.

“My lord Baron! My lord Baron!” they cried. “Let us out, we yield!” They threw down their weapons and dropped to their knees.

Heero stopped with a vaguely disappointed expression.

Duo, Quatre, Trowa and the others applauded. After a moment, the crowd in the stands began to applaud and cheer as well.

Baron de Franco stood up. “That was a good fight,” he admitted with grudging admiration. “And those were some of my best fighters, too.” He waved a hand and the gate was opened. The four remaining fighters scrambled out. “Come!” the Baron cried. “Let's have a feast. You are all my honored guests.”

“I could use a bath and a change of clothes,” Wu-Fei commented. He was drenched in blood from head to toe.

“Me, too,” Heero agreed. He was pretty thoroughly soaked with blood and gore.

“My servants will tend to all your needs,” Baron de Franco assured them. “Come, my friends! Hot food, fresh ale and pleasant company await you.”

Later that evening, in the Baron's comfortable dining room, everyone had to agree that the Baron set a very good table. They were all comfortably stuffed and feeling a nice buzz from the ale. Roku sat next to the Baroness so she could stroke his soft fur.

“What a delightful creature!” she exclaimed. “Are you certain I may not keep him?”

“I'm afraid not, my lady,” Quatre said. “Roku is my son and I would be lost without him.”

“Your son! But he is not human!”

“Well, he is and he isn't. It's sort of hard to explain.”

“Are you a sorcerer, Sir?” the Baroness asked.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Ah.” She continued to stroke Roku's fur. “Well, it is disappointing, but I will content myself with a little more petting.”

Roku stretched across her lap on his back and began to purr.

“He likes to have his belly rubbed,” Quatre hinted.

The Baroness rubbed Roku's belly and he closed his eyes happily.

“Sir Percival,” Baron de Franco said, “although your errand through my lands is indeed none of my business, I am curious all the same to hear it, if you don't mind telling me.”

“We are searching for the Wizard's Cave, which is said to be on the coast of Cornwall.”

“The Wizard's Cave? That is a dangerous place,” the Baron said. “Many men have died searching for it.”

“You know of it?”

“Indeed. I can direct you to the place on the coast where it lies, but I caution you to have a care. Men such as you would be a shame to lose.”

“You honor me, my lord Baron, but we will take our chances.”

“Very well, then. In the morning, I will give you directions and such tools as I think you will need to reach the cave. But tonight, let us enjoy ourselves.” He clapped his hands and a dozen young women entered the dining room and began to dance.

“Oh my!” Damodin exclaimed. “They are quite lovely.”

Baron de Franco winked. “I have no doubt they think the same of you my friend. I will send one or two of them to your room later.” The Baron lifted his mug. “A toast! To men of valor!”

“To men of valor!” echoed every throat.