The Shady Adventures of Fabian

Chapter 61

"You seemed to be in a big hurry to get on the road, old chap," Sir Mikael said as they took off down the trail.

"Well, you know, daylight's a-wasting, Mikey. And according to Briawny we're not too far from the wizard's tower. I figured the sooner we can get there, the sooner we can rescue the princess."

"That's true. Hey, who was that kid I saw you walking into the castle with?"

"Uh, you know I didn't catch his name, but he was a fine upstanding young man who just got named new chief advisor to the king after Briawny's friend Gareth totally pussed out and gave up on the job. He offered it to me, you know, but I was honor-bound to complete our quest so I promised to find a suitable replacement for him and after doing a very thorough search and combing through many suitable candidates I chose that kid as the best and brightest."

"That was mighty kind of you," Sir Mikael said. "You must have really made that boy's day."

"Yep, you know me. I'm super kind and all about improving things for young underprivileged children. It's a good day for everyone when Fabian rolls into your town."

"It really seems like you're working hard to improve yourself and become a better person," Sir Mikael said.

"Are you implying I wasn't a good person already? Nah, just joshing you, man. Fabian is on a constant path towards self-improvement and learning from his experiences. Say, you don't see anyone following us by chance, do you?"

Sir Mikael glanced over his shoulder. "Doesn't look like it to me. Why do you ask?"

"I just have this weird feeling that they might find Briawny's friend Gareth shoved into the broom closet with a dagger plunged between his shoulder blades. I obviously have no knowledge of this and had nothing to do with it if such a thing did indeed occur, but it's just this weird feeling I have."

"Hmm. You know I didn't see Gareth when we took off. Last I heard he had been drinking heavily this morning for some reason. I'm sure he probably just passed out somewhere."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly what happened. He must have passed out in the broom closet and landed on the pointy end of his own dagger. If anyone happens to chase us down and question us that's the story we'll tell for sure. You and I obviously had nothing to do with it."

"Is there something you're trying to tell me?"

"What? No, of course not. Just making conversation. Hey, it looks like Briawny is slowing down up ahead."

Briawny brought her horse to a complete halt and she and Brandon leaped off. There were several dead goblins laying on the ground near the side of the trail.

"There's been some sort of battle here recently," she called out.

"Gee, what makes you think that?" Fabian said with an eyeroll.

"These bodies are still warm. Whoever killed them may still be nearby. We don't know who or what they are. We need to be prepared for a fight."

"I'm always prepared for a fight," Fabian said as he leaped off Rothchild and began searching the bodies for any gold that may have been left behind. They appeared to be picked clean.

"Aren't goblins evil?" Brandon asked. "Doesn't it stand to reason whoever killed them might be friendly towards us?"

"Goblins will attack anything that moves. Even other packs of goblins. I don't think we can count on anything. Let's proceed with caution. We hopefully have the element of surprise on our side. After all, we know somebody was just here but they don't know we're here."

"That's a good point," Brandon said.

"Be quiet, Scrote," Fabian said. "Your loud talking is going to tip them off about our presence."

"I thought I was speaking at a very reasonable volume," Brandon said.

"Come on, man. Half the kingdom can hear your whiny little pre-pubescent voice."

"My voice isn't pre-pubescent. It might still crack once in awhile, but my ma says I have an authoritative man's voice now. Besides, you're talking much louder than me."

"Why don't you both shut up and let's move forward quietly," Briawny said. Instead of re-mounting her horse she led it on foot as she moved silently down the path. Sir Mikael followed behind by twenty or so paces.

"I hear voices up ahead," Briawny whispered.

"I think I see someone over by that tree over there," Fabian said. "I'll sneak up behind him and get the drop on him."

He tiptoed his way off the path and into the undergrowth. He could clearly see a large man with extremely broad shoulders and an axe strapped to his back. Even with his back to Fabian he could clearly see a long flowing red beard. The man appeared to be taking a long leak against the tree.

Fabian stealthily made his way up behind him as the man buttoned up his trousers and started to turn around. Fabian leaped at him and knocked him to the ground.

He attempted to pin the man's arms to the ground, but the man was clearly stronger than Fabian, so he settled with just slapping him across the face several times.

"Fabian?" the man said with a confused tone in his voice.

"That's me. The legendary hero and adventurer. It pleases me to know that you've heard of me. Obviously my well-earned reputation has traveled far and wide."

"Fabian, it's me. Rupert."

"Oh yeah? Well, I don't know any Ruperts, buddy. You can't fool me."

"We were in a party together for several weeks before you stole treasure from the rest of us and Arrick kicked you out. Don't you remember?"

"Wait a minute," Fabian said. "This is vaguely starting to sound familiar. I think I remember someone named Arrick. Real dickwad as I recall."

Suddenly Fabian felt something sharp and pointy sticking against his back.

"Hello there, thief. It's me, Arrick. I swore I would kill you if I ever laid eyes on you again and lo and behold here I am laying eyes on you again. I have to confide I've been very much hoping this day would come. I wanted to kill you back at Lannisburg, but Jaana, bleeding heart that she is wanted to let you live. Oh well, better late than never, you worthless waste of skin. Say your prayers to whatever pathetic little god you worship because you're just about to meet him."

Arrick raised his sword overhead in preparation to strike.