So that was how it was, eh? (Patreon)
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I smacked my head in frustration. I should have known!
I should have known that the Duchess of Daisies and her kin were not to be trusted! Of COURSE she intended for me to perish in the Plague of Battles. Why else would she have given it to me? She knew my marrying her was an impossibility from the start, so her plan all along was to destroy the Empire so she and her Unseelie kin could be free to wreak havoc!
I didn't fully understand why they were here in the lowfolk world instead of in Faerie, but I suppose havoc was havoc no matter where you wrought it. With no High King on the throne in Albric Tor, there was nothing to stop the Duchess's evil ambitions!
But apparently she hadn't expected me to survive. My being alive posed a potential threat to her .. maybe .. if I could somehow contrive to be crowned and restore the Empire. Blast it, I gave myself away by approaching the Dukes at their foundry in Percysthorpe! I smacked my head again and cursed my stupidity. I had lost the element of surprise! So the Duchess must have sent these two imbeciles to .. do what exactly?
The object they were trying to bury must be some sort of scry-blocking charm. They intended to trap me here, completely cut off from all contact! I could not let that happen!
All of this ran through my mind in an instant, and almost reflexively I apported Bodb's shovel away from him.
With his leaning prop gone, the lanky Duke fell silently to the ground just as his brother-cousin turned to address him.
"Hey, nitwit," Matholwch snapped. "I SAID brang the shovel over here."
"WHUT IN THE NETHERHELLS YOU DOIN' BOY?" Matholwch yelled as the sight of Bodb lying prone on the ground made its way slowly into his brain. "NAPPIN ON THE JOB? I swear you is the outright LAZIEST critter I ever seen! Whar's the shovel?"
Bodb lay face-down in the grass and didn't move.
"HOW IN TARNATION DO YOU LOSE A SHOVEL??" Matholwch screeched. "You had it a minute ago! What'd you do, eat it? Y'durn fool, that thar was my FAV'RIT shovel! I raised it from a pup, an' only just finally got it housebroke, an' now YOU gotta go off an' LOSE it just like that! I reckon maybe Adler was right about you, you IS absolutely useless! I'm a gonna learn you a thang or two 'bout takin' care of other people's property!"
I quietly pooked down to the dolmen and readied my bow as Matholwch picked Bodb up by the scruff and propped him, sitting, against a tree.
"Git ready fer the whoopin of your life," Matholwch growled. "I'm madder'n a nest o' hornets, and you ain't a-gonna lick me this time, tough guy!"
I was tempted to watch them fight, mainly because I could not imagine how the seemingly catatonic Bodb could ever "lick" his kinsman .. but no, I had to make an example of them. Nobody crossed the rightful High King of Faerie, and if it was war the Duchess wanted, she would have it! I produced an arrow, nocked it, took careful aim, drew back the string, released ...
and missed! How could I have missed at this range & in these conditions??
Matholwch turned slowly and looked at me as the arrow stuck, vibrating, in the tree trunk between the two Dukes' heads.
"Yer Highness," Matholwch groaned in what I hoped was terror. "Yer awake .. an' armed, I see. You ain't mad, are ya?"
"Hold it right there, you scoundrels!" I yelled, producing another arrow and striding toward them. "You've got some explaining to do!"
"I'll whoop you later, Bodb," Matholwch exclaimed. "Right now we gotta skedaddle!" He grabbed his brother-cousin by the hand and dashed away at an impressive rate of speed.