Paul Collins - Trouble Wizard

***

West of Gallah Flats, there stretched the vast desert tract known to most as the Barrenlands. Traversing its bleak undulating scape, were two wind-blown vehicles.

The land schooner cut across the coarse sand leaving in its wake a plume of red, broiling dust.

Not too far distant, a slower moving catamaran was the object of their pursuit. "Prepare to grapple!"

screamed a solid pirate by the name of Jute.

His companions, Hyiat and Bonnie, scuttled about the schooner in readiness to board their prey.

However, so busy were they in their eagerness to plunder, none witnessed a shadow appear where no natural shadow could possibly exist.

The darkness grew despite the overhead sun that cast other shadows away. Cat-like, the shadow-thing reached forth and touched both Hyiat and Jute on their temples.

Wondrous delights betook each of the pirates.

Jute, having often complained about the low returns from their pirating, suddenly saw himself a king and bejeweled in all manner of gems. He'd had his fill of plundering the impoverished desert nomads. He craved the more bountiful caravans that plied the inland tracts and mountains.

Hyiat, the smaller of the pirates, was easily swayed also. Long had he given up his childhood dreams of commanding a fleet of land schooners and being the scourge of all the Barrenlands. He now saw himself a man of leisure, being waited on hand and foot by countless slaves.

The shadow then leapt panther-like for Bonnie's temple but shrank back as though confronted by a darker, more potent force.

This darker force however was in part Bonnie's complete happiness at being a desert pirate. Not for her any other life than that which she had carved for herself.

The shadow hesitated with indecision. It probed the woman's defenses with expert thrusts of dark ether,

yet no matter how it pushed and cajoled, its jabs shot wide of their mark like blind sword thrusts.

Something protected its intended victim. With disgust it winked out of existence.

So it was with utter disbelief that Bonnie witnessed her two companions suddenly drop their grappling hooks and attend the sails that dramatically altered their direction.

Bonnie watched their prey veer off and smothered a profanity when a cheer erupted from the fleeing catamaran. She clasped Jute by the arm as he bustled past her on the quarterdeck. "What do you think the pair of you are doing, Jute-boy?"

Jute's glazed eyes darkened for a moment. "Something we should have done a long time ago," he said firmly.

The wind-driven vessel was making swift time toward the pencil line of green vegetation known as 'shore'

to the desert dwelling pirates.

"Land ahoy!" bellowed Jute. The wind blew his auburn mane far behind his head so that it trailed like a scarf. Battle scarred and weary, Jute saw the encroaching vegetation as a blessing in disguise.

Bonnie shadowed him as he climbed up from the catwalk to the forecastle. Braced against the rail, she watched the bush as they sped toward it. "So why this sudden change of heart, Jute-boy?" she demanded again in her broad accent. She looked aft to the quarterdeck where their other companion, Hyiat, was pulling hard on the tiller. "What plan has your besotted brain concocted this time?" she wondered.

Jute shrugged his broad shoulders. His tanned face creased in a scowl. "A sudden urge to stand on my two feet without having to balance myself all the time," he said doubtfully. "Who knows what the gods decree?"

After a moment's pause, Bonnie pursed her lips. "Much the same as Hyiat's reply," she said curiously.

She left the brooding giant and retired to the poop where their life's belongings were stashed. True, she had to admit, their lives abroad the desert had been fraught with danger for little gain. Their meager returns from their latest sojourn across the Barrenlands had yielded them little more than a food supply and a handful of copper. But desert piracy was a way of life. She had no great desire to change her ways simply on a hunch from the gods!

The Whispering Ghost, for such was their vessel's name, trundled to a halt against a sandbar. Its infrastructure heaved loudly before springing several boards. It lurched to one side, and canted creakingly as its chassis collapsed.

The pirates tottered about like bowled tenpins.

"Praise the gods," Jute said, and crossed himself. "If we'd been Out There," he added, nodding toward the brazen horizon, "we'd have perished."

"Is that what you think?" Bonnie snapped, jumping down to examine the damage. It was as bad as she'd feared. "If we'd been Out There, this wouldn't have happened, you great big clod."

"But it did," Hyiat said behind her. He cinched his scabbard tightly about his waist. The wind ruffled his silken shirt as he pulled on his sleeveless leather vest. "The gods work in mysterious ways," he said absently. "Farewell, girl," he said, blowing a kiss to the forsaken Whispering Ghost.

The trio gathered their belongings and entered the jungle with Bonnie cleaving a way through the dense foliage.

The forest was full of sweet scents and brilliant colors at this time of year. There were climbers that stroked the runnelled bark of trees and decorative blossoms hanging in profusion from the tallest branches.

They hadn't been hacking through the jungle long before Bonnie put a finger to her mouth for silence. Jute and Hyiat withdrew their broadswords carefully.

Gilbon and Jackie would have walked straight past the pirates had Bonnie not stepped out in front of them and cried, "Hold!"

"Ohmigod!" Gilbon exclaimed.

Jackie's face blanched when Jute and Hyiat moved out from the bushes and stood to either side of

Bonnie.

"As luck would have it," Jute began, "we've waylaid the remnants of a traveling circus."

Bonnie shook her head. "Jute, you can have the dragon. No doubt you'll fetch a few coppers for him as a curiosity piece." She glared at Hyiat. "You can have the maiden's tinware."

"What would I do with that?" Hyiat asked.

"You'd sell it to the idiot who would buy a dragon."

Gilbon reared at this last comment. "I'll have you know you're showing your ignorance! Cease this nonsense or I'll broil the three of you!"

Bonnie arched her eyebrows. "Broil us?" she said slowly. "An old has-been like you?" She indicated her companions and smiled. "I'll have the big one rare and the small one well done."

"Such impertinence!" Gilbon fumed. He flapped his massive wings and flared his nostrils. Smoldering fumes oozed from his nose. He stamped his heavy feet so the very ground thundered.

But the three pirates were not swayed.

Exhausted after his demonstration of dragonly anger, Gilbon let his wings crash to his flanks; with a surprised look on his face, he fell back to his haunches and groaned inwardly.

Bonnie brushed wafting debris aside with a bandanna. "Prickly fellow," she commented and promptly sneezed.

"Never mind all that," Hyiat said. He advanced upon Jackie with his broadsword poised menacingly.

Jackie crouched in a defensive stance.

"Treasure!" Gilbon croaked the word. "Plenty of it... for the man - or woman! - who finds Jackie's father."

Jute rested a hand on Hyiat's shoulder. "There's treasure everywhere for the taking, dragon," Jute said.

"And take you shall," Gilbon advised, warming to a plan. "But first, we must find the girl's father. The gods look favorably upon those who give aid in such matters."

"Not mine," Bonnie said.

"Nor mine," Jute growled.

"Mine neither," Hyiat added.

"Some gods do," Gilbon said, and quickly added, "but don't ask me which ones."

"We're wasting time," Bonnie said. She rested her hand upon the pommel of her sword as though wondering whether to draw it or not. "Slay them or leave them. Make up your mind, Jute."