The Berserker and the Pedant (4 page)

"Presto flame-o, fire! Tuh duh!"

Pellonia looked askance at Arthur, one eyebrow raised, a flat expression on her face, as if to say "No one could possibly believe that was magic."

"Well done, wizard!" Gurken declared, rummaging around for his pot and beans. Pellonia shrugged.

Arthur looked around the chamber. It was tall and unfinished, an area of earth hollowed out by the ants for some purpose, perhaps to store food, making it a larder, to grow food, making it a sort of greenhouse, or a spot for prisoners, placing them, once more, in a dungeon. A tunnel led away from them, out of the room and into the darkness. Pellonia, facing Arthur, slowly lifted her gaze above his head, then moved her head up and up and up.

"Don't… move… an inch," Pellonia said.

Arthur looked behind him, moving rather farther than one inch, and saw a pile of eggs resembling dirty leather sleep sacks towering over him. Ah! It was a nursery then. Oh good… On the ground next to the fire, an ant the size of a kitten fell from one of the eggs in a purplish goo. It stood up, shaking itself off and scurried over to Arthur, nudging him with fierce pincers lined with razor-sharp teeth. It ticked hungrily at his flesh.

"No, no no. Shoo. Scat, go away!" Arthur brushed the ant away with the sleeve of his silken robe. It came scurrying back, its clicking sounds quickening, pincers menacing the nervous wizard.

"I said, don't move," hissed Pellonia. She pulled a salted fish out of Gurken's pack and handed it to Arthur.

"Thank you, I am rather famished, but I don't think I'll be eating just now."

"It's not for you," she snapped. "Give it to the ant!" She pointed towards the insect.

Arthur handed the fish to the ant, which tore into it with the glee of a rabid creature enjoying a meal. After devouring the sardine, it scurried into Arthur's lap, curled into a little ball and fell asleep. Arthur tentatively pet the little critter; it was not all hard carapace as he had expected - there were little soft tufts of hair protruding from various places. Its pinchers flexed in pleasure and it gave out a series of soft clicks as he stroked its soft fur.

"D'awww," Pellonia purred, clasping her hands near her face and fluttering her eyelashes. "He likes you!"

A loud shriek pierced the air. Pellonia, Arthur and the ant jumped up, ready to flee should conditions require it.

"Coffee's ready!" shouted Gurken with pleasure, taking the pot off the fire and pouring out a mug's worth for each of them, hardly singeing his fingers in the process.

"Already?" Pellonia asked, "that seems pretty fast."

Gurken gave her a bemused look. "It was a magical fire, after all."

"Quite," said Arthur, smirking.

After observing their morning rituals, Gurken checked his armor and equipment to ensure everything was in its place, Arthur fed his new insectile companion and considered what to call it, and Pellonia rolled some eggs closer to the fire and tried in quite imaginative ways to get one to open for her.

"You should call it Kitty," said Pellonia, sitting on one of the eggs, "on account of its soft fur and tendency to purr."

Gurken's axe was at the ready, honed to a nearly sharp edge. He walked to the tunnel entrance and listened. Having scanned for danger with keen dwarfen senses, he gestured for them to follow.

"That doesn't quite fit him," Arthur said, walking over to Gurken "I'll have to get to know him better first."

Pellonia jumped down and walked towards them, looking mournfully back at the nest of eggs, "I'd have called mine Kitty."

They followed the corridor for some time, alert for any sign of danger, well… Gurken was alert for any sign of danger, Pellonia and Arthur were alert for any sign of a good name for the ant, which skittered about the floor, ranging ahead before getting interested in some scent on a rock and falling behind. It climbed on Arthur before settling on his shoulder and nibbling at his ear.

"Skitter!" "No." "Legs!" "No." "Anty!" "No." "Tickles!" "Hmm. No." "Pincy!" "No." "Fluffy." "I'm afraid not."

"STOP!" Gurken said.

"Sorry, Gurken," said Pellonia, "I didn't realize we were bugging you." She sniggered. Arthur chuckled.

"No, look ahead." Gurken pointed down the tunnel. At the edge of the torch light was a pair of yellow eyes on a green scaled face, forked tongue flicking towards them. It slithered into the luminescence, stretching its supple shape, slipping past the soil. A snake. Easily sixty feet long, it lifted its head into the air, hissing.

"Dragon!" Arthur and Pellonia yelled, pointing up at the beast, frozen in its terrifying aura.

"Dragon!" Gurken roared with glee, raising his axe. Thurisaz, the dwarfen rune of directed destruction and masculine fervor etched upon it's head, blazed. Gurken charged, bloodlust urging him on. He swung the axe delivering a mighty blow with enough force to sever the trunk of a tolerably round tree. The snake swayed away from the blow, sparks showering the shaft. It unhinged its massive jaw, enveloping the dwarf and swallowing him whole. A dwarf sized protrusion struggled in its neck and slid deeper down its craw. It hissed in pleasure, swallowed, and turned towards Pellonia and Arthur, tongue flicking.

Pellonia and Arthur tried to move, but all of their courage could not budge them. They remained still as stone, mouths agape, pointing at the slinking serpent. It slowly slipped closer, eyes steadily staring. The snake sniffed, its tongue tasting Arthur's skin. 

The ant hopped on the snake's face, landing between its eyes, spraying a sticky mist all over it. The snake shrunk aside, flinging the ant through the air, and hissed at it, muscles straining to strike. Dirt fell from the ceiling, pummeling the snake on the head, knocking it to the ground. A giant ant fell out of the hole and landed upon it with a "toch toch toch", pincers severing the snake's head from its body before the ant burrowed into the floor and out of sight. Gurken burst out of the stomach, axe glowing, eyes alight in berserk glee, shaking off stomach acid and blood. "That's disgusting!" he said, smiling. The small ant came trotting back to Arthur, who bent down to pet it.

"Antic!" Pellonia said.

"Oh, I like that one," Arthur agreed.

Episode Four

The Berserker and the Minotaur

"We've been wandering for DAYS since we killed the dragon," Pellonia whined. The whine, coming as it was from a rather slight figure having the appearance of a twelve year old girl, down to the freckles, pigtails, and pouty dimples, had a rather effective pitch that carried a long distance and had the attributes of a shriek: high pitch, impossible volume, and excruciating irritation.

"Come now," said Arthur, in a annoying, upbeat manner, "what kind of attitude is that? Firstly, we've been wandering for a few hours at most, and additionally, we're, on a grand adventure! What more could one want?" Arthur stroked his charming new companion, Antic, acquired mere hours ago. Antic lay perched on Arthur's arm, warming himself in the blue silken sleeve of Arthur's wizarding robe and nibbling bits of salted cod. Pellonia glared at Antic and sighed, surrendering to Arthur's pluck and good fortune.

Arthur continued, "Gurken, we've been following you around this labyrinthine tunnel for ages. What strategy are you following to get us out of here?"

"Right."

"I do apologize, but I don't understand."

Gurken, a dwarf currently wearing the ill-fitting leather armor he favored for travel, an axe granted to him by the gods, a shovel borne for its utility, and an empty but quite versatile sleep sack, shrugged, "We're turning right."

"That doesn't exactly convey the impression of an exhaustive strategy."

"Ancient dwarfen strategy. When lost in a maze, such as this one, keep turning right until the exit presents itself."

Arthur blinked twice. "Gurken, that strategy isn't guaranteed to lead to an exit."

Gurken's bushy eyebrows furled, his mouth puckered. "Keep to your books and magicking, wizard. Dwarves know the underground and, since you're practiced in the art of perception, I believe it fair to say that you can perceive that I'm a dwarf and thus conclude that I know the underground."

"Gurken," Pellonia said, sulk giving way to mischievous grin. "Arthur's correct."

"Aha! See there!" said Arthur, pointing at Pellonia. "It's not just me; even Pellonia concurs. One cannot extricate oneself from a maze just by turning right."

"Yeah, I've heard you have to always go left." Pellonia smirked.

"Precisely," said Arthur, nodding, "one must always go… what? No, that is the same faulty reasoning! Logically, always turning in one direction does not work. It only makes a circle."

Gurken shook his head sadly. "Circles don't have turns."

"Fine, then! A square, it makes a square."

"Only if you always turn after an equal number of steps," countered Pellonia. "That isn't what we're proposing. It's really more of a rhombus."

"The point is…"

"No, rhombuses still have equal length sides, you're thinking of a trapezoid." Gurken interjected Arthur, quite enjoying the experience.

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, closing his eyes. "The point is, there is no guarantee constantly turning in one direction will get us out of the maze; it could quite easily lead us back to where we started, which I am beginning to conclude is what has happened to us."

"What if we were to alternate?" asked Pellonia. "First left, then right?"

"No, always turn right. Ancient dwarfen saying."

"I don't mean to disparage the sayings of your ancestors, Gurken, but here, let me show you." Arthur started drawing a trapezoidish figure in the dirt while Pellonia and Gurken continued on. He was nearly finished with his proof when a stomping sound echoed down the tunnel, followed by deep angry breaths. Arthur looked, straining his eyes, and heard a sound not unlike that of an enraged bull, just before being struck in the head by two enormous horns and flung down the corridor past Pellonia and Gurken. He landed in a heap with a sickening crunch, head disjointed, and said, "They'll never find their way out in time to have me mended." Then he died.

Pellonia and Gurken had watched as Arthur sailed overhead, a resigned look on his face. They looked back down the tunnel. A beast stared back at them, a beast with the body of a man and the head of a bull. His - and it was quite distinctly a he, as the rags he wore left little to the imagination - his breath was hot and moistened the air as he breathed in and out. His eyes were narrow slits, pressed closed in fury. He held an axe with a head as big as a man's body and a shaft six feet long. He let out a long bellow of challenge and scraped a foot into the ground.

Antic, who had fallen at the beast's feet, stared down the half-man, half-bovine creature and spewed a foul smelling liquid. It struck the beast's chest, clinging to his torso and dripping to the floor. The brute retreated one step as dirt fell from the ceiling, landing where he'd stood. A giant ant as big as a horse fell to the floor, its enormous pincers closing on air. Toch toch toch. The half-man let out a low rumbling bellow, swung his axe in a mighty arc and hacked the giant ant in two. Antic, obviously a creature of intelligent calculation, like his human companion, skittered away towards Arthur as the giant ant fell in half, its insides pouring outside. The half-man stepped through the middle of the corpse, feet splashing through the gore.

"I am Bratax the Wanderer - who dares enter my labyrinth?" Bratax shouted, arms raised in the air in challenge.

"Minotaur!" Pellonia shouted, pointing at Bratax. She turned left, sprinting into the maze, her feet pitter-pattering down the hall until her footsteps fell silent.

"Minotaur!" Gurken yelled, raising his axe to the heavens, or at least towards the high ceiling of the tunnel they fought within, to meet Bratax's challenge. Fehu, the Dwarfen rune of domestic cattle and hope sizzled and seared into the axe's head, branding it with power. "I dare! I, Gurken Stonebiter, templerager of the Stonebiter clan, avatar to Durstin Firebeard! I come seeking an exit, but it would give me great joy to engage you in a battle to the death! Not my death, bullish one. Yours." He pointed the head of his axe at Bratax.

Bratax lowered his enormous axe; the head was so big that this was mostly a matter of attitude while holding onto the axe, as the difference was less that an inch, but nonetheless, it was easily noticed by trained warriors. Gurken noticed it too.

"Tomaso axe?" Bratax inquired.

"Aye."

"Impressive. Why does the bearer of a Tomaso axe trespass upon my labyrinth?"

"Ants."

"Ah."

"Indeed."

"Well, then."

To continue with an exacting description of the intellectual dialogue between the two fierce warriors would tax even the most patient and studious among us. Suffice it to say that there was some grunting and gesticulating, followed by posturing, humor, and finally understanding. Rather then sit through the peace accord in its entirety, let us skip ahead.