Harve N Pockets

[joegoda]

"Well, where the hell is he?" Bags was very irritated, pacing back and forth. "And what do you mean the merchants are gone?"

Harve had just come back from checking the two places he was sure he would find Pockets. He had run to the blacksmith's and not finding Pockets there, he ran to the gate, where the merchants of Bangala were supposed to be encamped.

"I'm sorry Bags, but he wasn't anywhere to be found. The Gateman said the merchants were standing around talking one moment, and the next they were gone. When I searched, I found a hole dug under the gate. I guess they dug it while nobody was paying attention and just sort of... slipped away. We filled in the hole, and I posted two of the bigger boys there to watch it."

"Great! That's just great." Bags stumped around for a bit, glaring at Harve, knowing it wasn't his fault all this was happening, but wanting a target to vent his frustration on. Grizelda sat quietly, trying hard not to interject. She knew that when Bags was like this, the best thing to do was to let him blow and go till the steam was all out of his sails. That, however, could take quite a while.

"You don't suppose he was kidnapped, do you?" Bags asked. "I mean again." No answer was forthcoming. "Do you think he could have run away with those merchants? Back to Bangala." He asked this directly of Grizelda rather than at the floor, walls or ceiling.

She cleared her throat and said "No, Bags. I don't think he ran off with the merchants. I left him at the blacksmiths and I was pretty clear about what he was going to do. He's still here, he's just not where we think he is."

Briggs came up to Bags and offered that he and the other old men go looking for him. "It's possible that he just got lost, Bags. He really doesn't know his way around, you know."

"If there's one thing Pockets doesn't get is lost." Bags said. "He may be confused, he may be sometimes unsure, but he never gets lost. In the middle of a blinding sandstorm, he can cover the last 20 miles we walked. If he went from the front gate to the blacksmith's, he can find his way here."

"So, he's either dead, which I doubt, or he's found something shiny and followed it." He took a seat at the head of the meeting table. "So we wait. And while we wait, the enemy is outside our wall."

He looked at Harve and said "Any news from the wall?"

Harve shook his head and said "No, sir. Nothing has changed since they set up camp outside the gates. We estimate they are just outside of bow range."

The first report, over 3 hours ago, had the bandits simply riding around the wall, stopping every so often to check the spot where the wall met the sand. The second report had them putting up camp just outside the gate, a spot from where they had, apparently, not moved.

Bags looked over at the old men, who he dubbed the Gray Brigade, and asked, "What do you think, boys?"

Briggs, who had been chosen as the leader of the Grays, said "Most desert folks don't attack at night. They may plan, plot, skulk, and do a dirty deed now and again under the light of the moon, but they don't attack."

Bags drummed his fingers on the table, looking towards the staircase for Pockets. "Do we have any plans to take the attack to them? Or are we just going to wait them out?"

Briggs stroked his wispy beard and said, "That is an option, but I suspect it's not the best option. With an army that large, they more than likely have a supply line back to their base, where ever that may be." He looked over at the rest of the Gray Brigade. They all nodded, some voicing their agreement. "We think that tomorrow, we should see if they want to parlay, hear their terms, if there are any, under a flag of truce."

Bags asked, "You think they'll honor a flag of truce?"

Briggs answered, "We suspect these are not your typical bandits, Bags. For one thing, there's about two hundred of them. For another thing, they are incredibly well organized. They are more like an army than a group of bandits. We've seen their sentries, and the tactics of riding round the wall... that's typical army, looking for a weakness in our structure."

"That's because they aren't bandits. They're the Army of Bangala." Pockets voice came from the stairs, and he stood at the top of them. "Well, now." He said, looking at the faces gathered around the table. "Ain't this a serious bunch"

"Where have you been?" Bags demanded. Grizelda crossed over to Pockets, took him by the elbow and led him to the other side of the table, away from Bags.

"You were supposed to be here hours ago." she hissed.

"Look, guys, I know this seems really serious. Barbarians at the gate and all. It's really not, though. They only want one thing."

"And I suppose you know what that one thing is?" Bags demanded.

"You sure have become the demanding sort since you became king, Bags." He looked at Grizelda and asked, "Has he been this way since I left?"

Not smiling, Grizelda said "What's the one thing, Pockets?"

Pockets, turned placed both hands on the table, and said "Me. They want me."

Bags exploded. "You! What did you do now, you half pint bottle of sour mash? Who did you piss off this time." He huffed and puffed and said "I've half a mind to toss you to them, if it will get them off our backs. All this time we've been thinking it was a war party, and you're telling me that all they want is you?"

"Yeah, it's good to see you too, Bags." Pockets said. "Look. The Caliph wasn't too keen on me and Harve being there in the first place, was he, Harve?"

Harve agreed. "He didn't act very hospitable. It took us three days to explain what we wanted, and we were still under constant guard. Well... I was. I think he thought Pockets was some sort of mad man or jester or something."

"Yeah, thanks, Harve." Pockets said with a crooked smile. "The thing is, until I swore my service to him, he thought I was a joke, and he thought Harve was the real power. He thought I was just the translator." He grabbed a mug from the table and drained it.

"And then?" Bags prompted.

"And then, when I proposed to Vive, which, by the way, was a really stupid thing to do, he realized that we, Harve and me, were nothing more than errand boys. He realized that neither one of us had much power at all. So he agreed. No skin off his nose. But he had a plan, see." He grabbed someone else's mug and drained it dry.

"And that was?" Bags prompted again.

"He'd let me and Harve come back with some of Bangala's stuff, so that it would appear legit." Pockets turned to Harve. "Did you tell them about being attacked on the desert?"

"Yeah, he told us.." Bags interrupted. "Pockets, skip to the end will you? Why do they want you?"

"Oh," said Pockets, "that's easy. No way in the seven rings of hell would he let me marry one of his handmaidens. If I hadn't of been so stupid, I would have figured that out. So these guys are here to make sure I don't make it back to Bangala... at least not alive."

Bags was drumming his fingers slowly on the table. "They sent two hundred men to kill you? Come on, Pockets. I mean, folks have wanted to kill you before; heck I've thought about it a time or two, but two hundred men?"

"Okay, so maybe I was only telling part of the story." Pockets said, shrugging. "Damien!" he roared down the staircase, "We're getting awfully dry up here!" Looking at Bags face, he hurried on.

"Okay, so we were attacked in the desert, right?" Bags nodded. "That was just a test, see, to see how good we were at fighting. That was where I did something smart and stupid at the same time. Using my boom apples, we beat the bad guys, but I also let them know that we had stuff that they did not."

He looked over at Harve. "I can't believe you didn't recognize some of the bandits. Remember that big guy in the tent with the big knife? He was one of the ones that got away. I figure he rode back to Bangala, told the Caliph what had happened, and the Caliph sent an army, who he already had together to follow us here."

"So..." Bags began, "If I get what you are telling me, the Caliph wants your little horse apple trick? And you?"

"Bags, I suspect that he wants more than that. These folks live in the desert. They have very set rules and restrictions they live by to survive out there. They have one incredible religion that does not like outsiders at all. I suspect that what they are doing here is one: ruining my honeymoon, but big surprise, I ain't going back there anyway, and two: wanting to kill us all and take the kingdom for themselves. We have a pretty nice set up you know. Safe from sandstorms, high walls that protect us from bad guys and one other thing, which is something they really want."

"Other than you?" Bags asked.

"Water, Bags." Pockets crossed over to the stairwell, was about to yell down again, when a serving girl showed up. He took the mugs and brought them back to the table. "She was kinda cute." he said to Grizelda. "What's her name?"

"Pockets..." Bags took a deep breath and said, "Okay. They are here to kill you, kill me and Griz, everyone, move in and take over the kingdom. Is there any good news?"

"Griz, see if you can get her name for me, okay?" Pockets turned back to Bags. "Sure there's good news. These guys are wimps. Sure they have big swords. Sure they will fight to the death. Sure they smell bad, but hey, they live in the desert. But we have one thing that they don't have."

"And what would that be, Pockets?" Bags asked.

"Yes." Pockets answered.

"What yes?" Bags asked, confused.

"That's what we have. The secret weapon." Pockets answered.

Grizelda said "Pockets, we don't know what the secret weapon is."

It was Pockets' turn to look confused. "But he just said..." A light came on. To Bags he said "OH! You were asking me what it would be, Pockets, right?"

Slowly, through clenched teeth, patience being a tough virtue, Bags said "Yesssss. Please, Pockets. What is the one thing we have that they don't have?"

Pockets took a long swallow of his ale, and smiling largely, looked around the room at Bags, Harve, The Gray Brigade and Grizelda. "Why me, of course."

Comments

[abbynormalcy.livejournal.com]

now *that* has got my curiosity up~ :)

[capi.livejournal.com]

Such a rascal, that Pockets!! *L* Go get 'em!!!

This is so much FUN!!!

*tries to turn the page and discovers it's not there yet*
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Harve shook his head and said "No, sir. Nothings ((nothing's)) changed since they set up camp outside the gates. We estimate they are just outside of bow range."

Briggs stroked his wispy beard and said, ((begin quotes, capitalize THAT?))that is an option, but I suspect it's not the best option. With an army that large, they more than likely have a supply line back to their base, where ever that may be." He looked over at the rest of the Gray Brigade. They all nodded, some voicing their agreement. "We think that tomorrow, we should see if they want to parlay, hear their terms, if there are any, under a flag of truce."