Fargon, part 3

A similar fate met two of the dwarfs and a goblin, though they experienced less nuzzling and mauling and kept their clothes. The surviving elves, goblins, dwarfs and one mutant crocodile managed to form a circle.

Wizardslayer stood alone, swinging his magic sword in one hand and firing his laser pistol with the other. A lucky blow from a hellspawn's club knocked the laser pistol from his hand. Fargon prompted a hellspawn to pick it up, run to the Misty Marsh and hurl it into the swamp. The hellspawn managed to return to the fight without drowning and was promptly cut down by Wizardslayer's magic sword.

Fargon watched the useless efforts the hellhorde were putting up. They had surrounded the main bunch of the enemy and were managing to kill a few, but they were practically queuing up to be killed by Wizardslayer. If they all rushed him at once, they'd have him, but no, they held back until he had time to cut them down.

"Enough," Fargon sent a mental message to Captain Vilepractice. "Retreat. Gather at the Bridge of Sties."

Vilepractice ordered his bugler to sound the retreat. The hellhorde tune, "Run Away", sounded out, making Wizardslayer wonder if he was being subjected to some hideous sonic weapon.

Fargon counted the survivors. His hellhorde had taken heavy casualties, but so had the invaders. All the giants were dead, the cute, furry thing was under a giant, and the last of the mutant crocodiles lay with a hellspawn's detached arm sticking out of its mouth and several daggers in its chest. The only surviving elf was desperately rubbing himself with anti-dagger wound lotion. Wizardslayer, three dwarfs and two goblins remained on their feet.

"Where's Princess Autumna?" asked Wizardslayer.

"I thought she was with you," said a goblin.

Galadtobefey put his bottle of lotion back in his handbag and stood up.

"The hellhorde took her."

"What?" Wizardslayer walked over to Galadtobefey over dead hellspawn and friend alike. "You saw them take her and did nothing?"

"I had my work cut out trying to stay alive. Look, all the other elves are dead and I'm wounded. Honestly, some people have no gratitude."

"I'm sorry, Galadtobefey," said Wizardslayer. "I'll make it up to you by killing Fargon."

"That's what we're here for," said Galadtobefey.

Fargon lifted his eyes from the Pool of Perception to Brunhilde, who was trying to hide her manic pleasure at witnessing the carnage. To an untrained eye she would have looked perfectly calm, except for the sweat beading her upper lip and forehead. Fargon went over and licked it away.

"Grimwally."

Grimwally opened the door and shambled in, wearing his new goatskin trousers.

"Yes, master?"

"We are to have four visitors. Three of them are creatures and one is a lady. Prepare the dungeons accordingly."

"Yes, master." Grimwally hurried out. He chuckled. Apart from the little matter of falling a thousand feet, he was having a good day.

"I wouldn't call Autumna a lady," said Brunhilde.

"What would you call her?"

"Such words should not pass my lips, darling."

"No, they are much too pure for that. Keep an eye on the Pool." Fargon swept from the room.

When Fargon returned, he was followed by a kitchen drudge carrying an enormous tray of sandwiches. The drudge was trying very hard not to look at Brunhilde's cleavage or drool on the sandwiches. Fargon took the tray and gestured the drudge to be gone. The drudge hurried out, glad that Brunhilde and Fargon had seemed hardly aware of him.

Fargon offered the tray to Brunhilde.

"Have one," he said. "They're goat. Very tasty."

While Brunhilde ate one sandwich, Fargon devoured the rest. He had some arduous magic to perform in the near future.

Wizardslayer and his remaining companions hurried to try to catch the carts which had taken away Princess Autumna and the other prisoners, but they were slowed by attacks from animate and inanimate objects. Fargon kept harassing them with the twin aims of killing the elf and destroying the rifle. The Goddess ruined all his efforts.

Darkness fell and Wizardslayer's group stopped to camp for the night. Fargon went out to brood on the battlements for an hour, then went to bed with a book of spells, Brunhilde, some nuts and a gallon of bramble wine.

In the morning, Fargon detached the amphibious jellyfish from his body and threw them into their tank. He floated down from the top of the wardrobe. He'd had a restless night. Brunhilde was lying in a tangle of sentient sheets with her hair sticky with bramble wine. She looked as if she was up to no good even when she was asleep.

Fargon had a shower and sent his mind to the dungeon. Princess Autumna was in a small cell containing only a wooden bench, a few hairy blankets and a flush toilet. She was dressed in thermal underwear and, a typical hellspawn joke, elfskin trousers and a dreadful, tartan polo neck sweater. She was awake and sitting on the bench with her bare feet drawn up off the cold, stone floor of the cell.

The brace of dwarfs and the goblin were in the main reception room of the dungeon, chained to the wall in their own torn and grimy clothes. A brazier kept the room pleasantly warm. Grimwally pulled a branding iron from the brazier and spat on it to watch the steam and bubbles.

Fargon dressed and went down to the dungeons. Grimwally was juggling with red hot branding irons. When he saw Fargon, he expertly caught them and stuck them back in the brazier. Fargon glared at the captive dwarfs and goblin. The dwarfs looked terrified, but the goblin wore an expression of ill-tempered malevolence on his leathery face. Fargon approached this most likely convert.

"What is your name?"

"Erolflin," said the goblin.

"I'm surprised that goblins should travel with a waste of protein like Wizardslayer."

"It wasn't my idea. Wizardslayer once saved Carigrunt's life, so Carigrunt swore eternal loyalty to him. Us goblins stick together, so the rest of us joined him."

"You might have information I want, Erolflin. I offer you a choice. You can be tortured to death or you can help me remove the bag of protection around your mind and join my hellhorde. Pay and conditions are good, there's plenty of violence and pillaging, annual holidays, sick pay and free board and lodging. It's all here in this leaflet, "It's a Creature's Life in Fargon's Hellhorde". What's your answer?"

"Need you ask?"

Fargon attacked the bag of protection from the outside, while Erolflin attacked it from inside. The bag split, then disappeared. Fargon studied a mind which was almost as depraved and corrupt as his own. Interesting as it was, there was no information on the identity of The Goddess.

"Unchain Erolflin, Grimwally." Fargon turned to the dwarfs.

"Now, you two, what's your decision? A horrible death or a career in the hellhorde?" The dwarfs hastily agreed to sign up. They knew no more about The Goddess than Erolflin did. At Fargon's gesture, Grimwally unchained them.

"Start screaming as if you were being tortured," said Fargon.

Erolflin let out a howl of such volume and dreadfulness that the dwarfs and Grimwally brought forth genuine screams in response. Fargon gritted his teeth. When Erolflin paused for breath, Fargon gestured him to be silent. Grimwally slapped his own head to try to stop the ringing in his ears.