The Mourning Woods - 03 (47 page)

Various cries came from the audience as Francois ended his little fantasy.

“Murderer!”

“Enemy of the peace!”

“Filthy pile of
klobagh
!”

I didn’t need a translator to figure out that last one. Motherfucking Francois! He had played them all like a violin. It was like standing in a courtroom facing off against a masterful lawyer...which come to think of it wasn’t entirely outside the realm of reality. This guy was at least seven hundred years old. Who knows what kind of degrees he had.

Well, fuck that, I say. He may have a lot more experience, but I wasn’t exactly a slouch. I had a decade of role-playing experience and a semester with the NJIT drama society (not to mention I had watched Law and Order once or twice). If I was going down, I’d do so swinging...verbally at least.

“THE ACCUSED SHALL ANSWER THE ACCUSATIONS.”

I stepped forward, when suddenly Sally grabbed my arm. “Don’t fuck this up,” she hissed at me. Gee, whatever happened to “good luck
”
or “go get ‘em, sport
”
?

“No worries,” I confidently replied. “I got this in the bag.”

I walked forward and then took a dramatic pause to scan the crowd. I made brief eye contact with as many beings as I could (at least those with eyes) before attempting to entrance them with my oratory eloquence.

“Francois’s charges are all...bullshit.” (Did I say eloquence?) Maybe not the best opening speech ever, but that’s OK. I could still win the crowd over.

“For starters, you’re several hundred years old, correct?”

“I don’t see what my age has to do with your crimes, but yes,” he answered.

Now for the
coup de grace
. “A vampire of your age should heal pretty damn fast. I say you self-inflicted the wounds on your leg right before coming out here.” There were murmurs from the crowd at that. Oh, yeah, his entire case was about to fall flat on its ass and I wasn’t even finished with my first thought yet.

“I think we both know that any damage I did to you would have healed long before now.”

“Like when you attacked me earlier?”

“Yes...I mean no! I didn’t...”

“See?” Francois bellowed to the crowd. “He admits his crime!”

Oh, crap. I turned back toward Sally. Her face was in her hands and she was shaking her head.

“That’s not what I...”

“Shall we be forced to listen to more of his lies?”

“Hold on,” I yelled, trying to get control. “I’ll admit there was a fight...”

Cries of “Deceiver!” and “Treachery!” began rumbling through the crowd.

“But it was all Francois’s fault. He and Turd...err...there were these barrels of syrup...um.”

“SYRUP?” the glowing thing asked.

“Well...yeah.”

“Must we continue this charade?” Francois spat. “It is obvious that the Freewill is either lying or has been driven mad by his bloodlust.”

Oh, boy, this wasn’t quite turning out as I had planned. Maybe I should’ve stayed in the drama club for an extra semester.

The crowd was now in an uproar. Innumerable threats were voiced. More debris was thrown onto the field. It looked like they were about ten seconds away from turning into the world’s freakiest lynch mob. I noticed Nergui inch closer to me. Bless his insane honor, not that it would do me any good if a hundred monsters straight out of my childhood nightmares descended upon me.

“ORDER!” the moderator demanded; however, even he was starting to lose control. I had little doubt the disintegrations were only a few moments away.

Just then, though, the crowd quieted. A hush came over them, followed by surprised gasps.

I started looking around for the source, when suddenly one of the Sasquatches spoke up. “
Turd! Turd lives!
”

I looked to the far side of the hollow to see (not surprisingly) that he was right. Turd entered, flanked on either side by two other Bigfeet. He was an absolute mess. Blood was splattered across his front and sides. Nail marks ran down his cheek and chest. The skulls he wore across his chest glistened with gore. In short, he and Francois must’ve shared the same playbook because he looked a hell of a lot worse than when I left him. I had merely stunned him, but he looked as if I had backed over him with an eighteen wheeler. Bunch of fucks.

As he walked toward the arena floor, the Sasquatches around us all broke into chants of, “
Turd, Turd, Turd!
” Despite the grimness of the situation, I had to smirk. Damn, but it was still funny.

All eyes were on his entrance save Francois’s and mine. Ours were locked on each other. I mouthed the word, “asshole” at him and he just grinned in return. Between the two of them, they were going to bury me. Talk about unfair.

Turd made his way to the center, directly opposite me. Francois gave him a respectful bow and stepped aside.

“TURD IS RECOGNIZED,” came the booming voice of our moderator.

“
Freewill Tlunta try to kill Turd. But Turd still lives!
” the ugly fucker screamed to the crowd. “
Freewill want war!
” he added, drawing more nasty responses from those around us. He raised one arm to point it at me. It was covered in dirt and grime. Leaves and twigs stuck to it. I could see ants and assorted other bugs scuttling through his glistening fur...
glistening
! That was it. Whereas Francois had been smart enough to clean himself up a bit before coming here, Turd had merely messed himself up more. The filthy fucker hadn’t bothered to wash off the syrup. Maybe I still had a chance.

“
Turd wish for peace with...
”

“Turd wishes for nothing but profit!” I yelled out, drawing silence from everyone in the arena.

“THE FREEWILL HAS NOT BEEN REC...”

“Excuse me, but this is important,” I said, risking a lightning bolt to the face. “Look at him. I mentioned syrup before and this asshole is practically covered with it. Syrup...the sap from the sacred tree.”

That obviously meant nothing to most of the participants here, but the Sasquatches around us suddenly became interested.

“
Freewill is...
” Turd started, but he was interrupted by another voice.

“
Freewill speaks true!
Grulg smell it.
”

Suddenly the other Bigfeet in the arena began to sniff the air. Each of them had a nose far more sensitive than even mine. Turd still smelled like shit, but I had little doubt that to them he now smelled like sweet shit.

That caught Turd off guard. He growled at Grulg, then turned back to me. “
Freewill throw Turd into sacred tree.
” Oh, crap. What if they bought that?

“Fuck that!” Sally suddenly yelled. “He’d have had to throw you through a dozen trees to get that sticky.”

Guess her knowledge of syrup production trumped mine. Way to go, Sally.

More murmurs from the crowd. I still wasn’t home free, but at least there was some doubt. Sure, being covered in syrup wasn’t exactly a crime. That fact didn’t exonerate me in the least. Still, hearing a little doubt from the crowd was music to my ears.

Wait a second...
music
! Turd was wearing his skulls, the same ones he had that iPod stuffed into earlier. It was a slim chance, but better than none at all. I had to hope Turd was anal about keeping his tunes nearby.

Before anyone could say anything further, I dashed toward Turd. Screams of outrage flew through the crowd as I stepped up to him.

Suddenly powerful arms grabbed me from behind, Francois’s.

“No! No more bloodshed, Freewill,” he yelled, starting to drag me back. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Thank you, fool. You couldn’t have done that better had I planned it.”

“Yeah, well plan this, asshole!” I snarled back. I reached back and slammed my fist into his injured leg. He gasped in pain and his hold on me loosened just enough for me to surge forward.

Unfortunately, I ran straight into the waiting arms of Turd. He grabbed me with his claws, and I could immediately feel the bones in my ribs start to bend. Goddamn, he was strong. It didn’t matter, though. I was close enough. As he lifted me, I grabbed the string of skulls from Turd’s chest and tore them off.

I threw them to the ground, before suddenly becoming airborne myself. As I flew through the air, a sound not unlike shattering pottery told me I had done the job. Now I just had to hope...OOF! OK, first I had to land.

“ENOUGH,” the glowing orb declared. “SUMMARY JUDGEMENT HAS BEEN PASSED. FOR HIS ACTIONS, THE FREEWILL SHALL BE...”

“
Look!
” I heard Grulg’s (I think) voice shout.

I lifted my head from the ground and saw that I had been right. Lying there in the remains of a shattered skull was a now broken MP3 player.

“Get up,” I heard Sally say from next to me. She hooked an arm around mine and hauled me to my feet. “I sure as shit hope you have something else,” she whispered. “Syrup and shitty rock music are pretty goddamn weak against their accusations.”

Once back to my feet, I shrugged. “I’m open for suggestions.”

Still, maybe it was enough. The crowd as a whole was somewhat nonplussed by my “revelations.” The meeting place floor, however, was a different matter entirely.

The Sasquatches at the perimeter had begun to close ranks around us. This time, though, their attention was on Turd and what lay before him. Snorts of disbelief rose from them (OK, I’m kinda assuming here. Hard to tell with snorts), but they gradually gave way to snarls of anger. Grulg’s voice was chief amongst the agitators.

“
You betray the spirits! You betray our honor!
” he growled. Soon accusations began to fly from the others as well.

“THIS IS HIGHLY UNUSUAL,” the glowing thing commented. Since he had yet to proceed with my disintegration, though, I had to assume he was likewise intrigued. Hopefully, this would be enough to make him rethink his summary judgment (which I assumed wouldn’t exactly be in my favor).

I turned toward Francois. A look of disbelief was on his face, no doubt at Turd’s idiocy. I mean, jeez, who brings the “murder weapon,” so to speak, back to the scene of the crime? He began to back up.

“Hold on there, Frenchy!” I called out to him. “You might want to stick around. I have a feeling this is about to get go...URK!!”

Faster than I could even blink, Francois was upon me. His hands wrapped around my throat and I could feel his claws extend as they began to dig in.