The space was humming with chatter and conjecture. ‘Order,’ Archmage Numnums murmured. Although he’d said it softly, the circular walls of the room and the use of his supernatural tonsils, meant everyone in the space was stupefied by the volume of the request. Silence reigned.
Archmage Numnums sat in the centre of the room and surveyed the Academy wizards, and servants, crowded on benches that rose around the central dais. He sighed; he had only just had breakfast, was already thinking of lunch and didn’t want this farce to go on any longer than necessary. He performed a regal wave at the Master to proceed.
‘Thankyou Archmage Numnums,’ said the Master of We’ll Be Having Words, giving an equally regal bow ‘We are gathered here today, to hear the case of the Demon…’
‘Objection!!!!’ screeched a small albino rat, standing behind a lectern, red eyes ablaze and its wig slipping, ‘My client, the Plaintiff regards the term ‘Demon’ as derogatory, pejorative and…’
‘Fine, fine.’ Master of We’ll Be Having Words said, ‘Although this is not a court room, Mr Lert, it is merely a hearing. But in your parlance: The ‘Plaintiff’ versus Mr Hed -his True Name – also known as Chickenflaps, …er… Apprentice Wizard, of the Parish.’ He added, sotto voce, ‘And he who has much to learn.’
Archmage Numnums waved his hand for proceedings to continue. Lert gestured to the witness box, a large wooden container upon which his client stood, ‘Please introduce yourself to the hearing.’
‘Amicroth. Sir.’ The voice came from a small shape, the height of a young child, the deepest shade of black, who at first (and second come to that) glance didn’t seem to have a head. Rudimentary eyes were seen blinking nervously at the top of the shoulders, where a neck might start, and slitted nostrils breathed the warm fug of many bodies crammed into a small room. It turned a felt hat in its hands, around and around, anxiously. No one asked where, considering his headless state, he would put a hat.
‘I understand Mr Amicroth, that you wish to bring a complaint against Chickenflaps, er…Hed, for Harassment?’ Lert gestured widely around the room.
Amicroth hopped nervously from foot to clawed foot, ‘Yes please. Thankyou.’
‘Why?’ Lert waved a paw for Amicroth to continue.
‘Because he keeps following me, sir. All the time.’
Numnums’s eyebrows raised in sceptical amazement. ‘Really? He seems a nice boy.’
All eyes turned to Hed, who leaning back in a chair, was using a sharp knife to clean under his nails with an irritated scowl.
‘But as we will hear, Hed has behaved in a sinister manner. Mr Amicroth if you would care to explain…’
Amicroth continued, ‘Yes sir. I’ve moved six times, sir. Each time, a different island. I just get settled, find a nice job, somewhere to live, nothing fancy you understand, just a small hut does me, but then I feel a tingling, sir, all over, and the next thing I hear is the villagers muttering about a wizard searching for a Demon, sir. And I’d know. I’d know HE,’ he pointed at Hed, accusingly, ‘had found me again. Terrible it is,’ He whimpered.
‘And how do you answer this accusation, Hed?’ Lert pirouetted to face Hed.
Hed stood up, ‘Of course I have chased him. On that fateful day, I committed a heinous act, and that thing…’ he pointed.
‘Objection!’ Lert screeched again. ‘My client has a right to…’
Master of We’ll be Having Words said wearily, ‘Hed, please do not use that language. ‘Mr Amicroth’ is sufficient.’
Hed drew a calming breath, ‘Mr Amicroth escaped that day on the hill. I cannot let him loose, I cannot rest. He is evil. He must go back.’
‘I’m not evil, sirs,’ Amicroth looked indignant. ‘I’m just trying to earn a living. I opened a pub on Ortinkle, it was going quite well, we had Karaoke and Curry nights every Wednesday. It went down a storm, what with it being the only pub in the village and most of them had only had Potato night up ‘til then.
‘Er, potato night?’ Master of We’ll Be Having Words, asked.
‘Yes sir. Each villager has their own favourite potato you see, and they dress them up in little scraps of cloth and hold a fight. Make a little stage and everything. It’s the OWP: Ortinkle Wrestling Potatoes. Loser gets mashed.’
Numnums perked up and nodded: sounded quite interesting.
‘Anyway, sometimes not a lot happened, potatoes not being the most willing vegetable to fight. So, the Karaoke and Curry went down a treat. Well, it did,’ his eyes got even darker, ‘if he hadn’t turned up.’
Hed stood up straighter ‘I loosed this thing…Mr Amicroth, and it…he attacked me. I bear the scars to this day.’ Everyone looked at his face, one side of which bore the furrow marks of claws, then their eyes travelled over to Mr Amicroth’ s long, and rather dirty talons. Mr Amicroth cringed,
‘I was frightened! Terrified! One moment I was settling in for the night, with a warm fire of lava stones and a scented brimstone candle and the next thing this blinding light burst upon me, with a flash of cold air, and he was in front of me. I thought he was attacking me! I ran! Later, when things had quietened down, I tried to find him, for him to send me back home.’ His broken tone as he spoke this last word, tugged at everyone’s heart. ‘But every time I was close, he’d run. Then, one day, he turned and attacked me and has been chasing me ever since. At my wit’s end, I am.’
All eyes looked reproachfully at Hed. ‘Beast,’ Cook muttered eyeing him with narrowed eyes.
Hed tried again, ‘He does not belong in the earthly realm. The only way I can atone is to send him back.’ There was a general nodding from the Wizards on the bench, most not having any truck with underworldly things flying about the world. Gave them all a bad reputation.
Numnums held up a hand, ‘Normally, I would agree, no question. However, I believe Mr Amicroth has been living an exemplary life, doing his bit in the community. In fact, Mr Hed, I am more concerned about the letter I’ve had from the East.’ A smoking scroll materialised in front of Numnums and with a further wave, it unspooled to a great length with a strong smell of burnt hair. Words such as ‘Furthermore’, and ‘the boy’s a bloody menace’, and which concluded with those most unholy words ‘…will be Writing To My Solicitor…’ could be seen. ‘The Dragons claim you…’ he peered closer to read, ‘…with no Provocation and with Malice Aforethought, murdered several of their clan. Is this true?’
Hed looked worried, ‘Well, when you say it like that… I mean the villagers of Low Moaning said…’
‘Low Moaning?’ Master of We’ll Be Having Words said incredulously. ‘And you listened? A bigger bunch of bigots I’ve yet to meet! I suppose they told you the Dragons were ‘taking all their jobs?’’
‘Well….’
Master of We’ll Be Having Words slapped his head and groaned. Lert gave a toothy smirk. Hed slumped into his chair.
Numnums interrupted, ‘Alright, alright. Let’s hear from Hed’s mentor, Woebegone. A man of sense, who has spent years wandering silently, communing with nature.’
All eyes turned to a chair, upon which sat a small, smooth rock. ‘Wobegone, is there anything you wish to add on behalf of your pupil, Hed?’
There was silence; and more silence, broken only by the long whining noise of a deflating balloon as someone farted at the back. Followed by more sweeping swathes of silence.
Someone coughed.
‘Doesn’t say much, does he?’ Master of Paperbacks whispered to Master of Pot Plants, who nodded sagely, ‘Not now, no. Rumour has it the whole silent communing thing went a bit too far, and when Hed went to find him, Woebegone had turned into a rock.’
Numnums cleared his throat, ‘Well, well, thank you Woebegone, for urging leniency. I believe we can resolve this. Mr Amicroth, you say you liked running a pub?’
Amicroth nodded.
‘Well, it so happens the pub here on Woke has recently come up for rent, the owner having had a small… er … accident with a bowl of nuts, a squirrel and a harpoon. You can run all the karaoke and curry nights you wish.’ Amicroth gave a wide smile, which manifested as grimace so terrible that several Wizards shrank back in their seats, and which faltered slightly as Numnums continued, ‘Hed will be charged with keeping a watch upon you’.
Hed puffed himself up. ‘And we’ll keep an eye on Hed.’ Hed slumped again.
‘I think both of you should work together.’ Numnums charged sternly.
Hed and Amicroth looked at each other. Mr Amicroth gave a tentative smile. Hed looked at him. Mr Amicroth had kind eyes, now he saw them properly. He smiled back.
Numnums continued, ‘And I think you should see if a potato night could work. Got potential.’
Familiar Spirits Public House
Potato Night! Big Prizes!
Think your potato has what it takes?
One potato per customer. Free drink with every entry.
Lovely stuff, very funny, great names and a fact joke – what more could we possibly want? J x