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A warrior queen with an unusual talent is magically marooned on another planet and tries to use another type of magic, the magic of technology, to get home.
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This is a complete story of twenty chapters and I'll post two chapters every weekend.
Return of the Queen
by Terry Volkirch
CHAPTER 18
Gabrielle sat in her chair on the bridge and reminisced as she stared at the unmoving stars on the view screen. She really would miss Thelma. In spite of all the trouble that the redhead caused, she turned out to be quite a sweet young woman. Sure, she was rough around the edges, but she easily made up for it. You just had to get to know her.
The queen looked over at Trilian, asleep in the other chair. 'Misunderstandings are so easy to come by,' she thought. 'If only people could get to know one another better.'
There were no recognizable timepieces but it seemed as if they'd been flying for the good part of a day. By then, boredom had set in, and with nothing better to do, Gabrielle finally decided to talk to the computer.
"Mister Computer... uh... are you awake?"
"I am always functional, your Majesty," the computer responded.
"Please, call me Gabrielle."
"As you wish, Gabrielle."
The queen smiled, happy to just hear her name being spoken.
"I'm curious about something," she said. "Back on my world, we name our ships. Does this ship have a name?"
"Accessing.... This ship's name is 'The Cetus.' According to the records, that means whale."
"You have whales on Agrin?"
"If by whale you mean a very large aquatic mammal that evolved for life in the sea, then yes."
"That sounds like a whale alright," the queen said, unsure of what else to talk about. Then she remembered the reason for her journey.
"How long will it take us to reach Kispri?" she asked, suddenly aware that she might not have the luxury of a long, leisurely cruise.
"At the current rate of speed, I estimate it will take us roughly three thousand four hundred and sixteen days."
"What?! Are you serious?!"
"Is that not satisfactory? We can go faster if you like. You never specified a speed."
"Yes! Yes, of course I'd like to go faster. Much faster. How fast can this ship go?"
"We can reach several multiples of the speed of light."
"What? Light has a speed?"
"Yes. Would you like a tutorial?"
"No! No, thank you."
The queen paused to think, barely noticing that her shouting had woken up Trillian. The little fae rubbed her eyes and squeaked with indignation. "Hey! I was trying to sleep! What's with all the shouting?"
"Sorry, Trillian. I just found out we've been traveling much too slowly. We need to speed things up... a lot."
Just then, Durgan showed up. He'd been part of a group who'd been wondering much the same thing. They were all anxious to get home and wanted to know if they had time for some sleep. He finally decided to go up and ask about it.
"Hey," he said. "I heard shouting. Is everything okay?"
"Hi, Durgan," Gabrielle said. "Yes, everything is fine. As I was telling Trillian here, I just found out we've been traveling much more slowly than this ship's top speed. I was about to speed things up."
"Ahead, full speed, Mister Computer," Gabrielle commanded. "If you please."
"As you wish, your Majesty," the computer said. "Preparing for hyperdrive. Please direct your attention to the view screen. You might be interested in the spectral effect of jumping into hyperspace."
Gabrielle looked at Durgan and Trillian, both of whom shrugged. Then they all turned to watch the screen.
It wasn't long before the computer said, "Entering hyperspace," and two very curious things happened. First, every star on the screen suddenly smeared into narrow streaks that contained all the colors of the rainbow. The second curious thing to happen was Trillian's reaction to the colorful affect. She squealed out, "Rainbows!" and promptly fell back in the chair, writhing and moaning.
Gabrielle and Durgan looked at Trillian, looked at each other and then looked back at the fae.
"Shouldn't we... you know... throw a sheet over her or something?" Durgan asked.
"Let's just leave her alone for a while. Oh, but just a moment.... Mister Computer? How long will it take to reach Kispri at our current rate of speed?"
"We'll enter orbit in seventeen hours, eleven minutes and thirty seven seconds," the computer replied.
"What? How long is an hour?" Durgan asked.
"And what's an orbit?" Gabrielle wondered aloud.
"There are twenty four hours in a day, sixty seconds in an hour and sixty seconds in a minute. We arrive at Kispri in less than a day."
"That's better," Gabrielle said, smiling and pumping her first. "Now let's go."
"Please wait," the computer spoke up. "I have a question. Will Trillian be needing medical attention?"
"Oh, no," Gabrielle answered. "She just really loves rainbows."
The two Kisprian humans quickly left to give Trillian some privacy and went to relay the good news to the others.
~o~O~o~
The queen found her way to the living quarters shared by Dalene and one of the other women. She muttered something about being desperate for sleep and collapsed on the bed. It wasn't long before she ended up back in her royal bed chamber back on Kispri. She slowly solidified her astral body, slipped into her robe and slippers and wandered out into the sitting room.
The sitting room was empty but the large double doors were slightly ajar and the queen could hear plenty of activity outside. She peeked her head out and jumped when a woman screamed and then blurted out a quick succession of words.
"Your Majesty! Where have you been?! The hordes are advancing! Everyone is scrambling to defend the castle! Muriel has been absolutely frantic... well... you know what I mean. She never really gets truly frantic, does she? Maybe just a little frayed around the edges. I don't know how she can stay so calm. It's a disaster out there," the woman said, not stopping to breathe. She was one of the royal maids, dressed in the usual dark gray uniform with a diagonal stripe of lavender.
"Wait! Wait a moment!" Gabrielle interrupted. "Where's Muriel? Please call Muriel right away."
"At once, your Majesty, the maid curtsied and ran off down the hall.
The queen muttered and walked back into the center of the room, slumping down in the spare throne. "I'm only away for a couple days and those idiots attack?! This is ridiculous."
After much muttering and shaking of her head, Muriel arrived, looking as if she was ready to rattle off several sentences just as the maid had done. But before the older woman could say anything, Gabrielle held up a hand to command silence.
"Muriel, please tell me this is all a dream. Tell me the barbarians haven't done something stupid like get themselves drunk and worked up the courage to attack the castle. Please?"
"I wish I could, Gabrielle. But we both know that would be a lie. Please tell me you're on your way and will be here shortly."
"At least I can truly say that much."
Muriel visibly relaxed at the news. "How long until you arrive?" she asked.
"About two thirds of a day."
The advisor did some mental calculations and shook her head. "I'm not sure we can hold them off that long."
The queen got a wicked look on her face then. "Perhaps I can stall them. You distract Marie while I make a personal appearance. Where's my pregnancy pillow?"
~o~O~o~
The city of Prizzaria was built atop a long, wide ridge that defined the east side of the Columbia River valley, with the castle towering over the outer city wall, looking very majestic in the light of the late afternoon sun. Few trees were left in the area, having been harvested long ago for lumber to build houses and some interior portions of the castle. Normally, lush meadows of grass and wildflowers covered the ridge and surrounding area, but currently, the only natural features consisted of hard-packed dirt with a few, widely-spaces patches of trampled grass. The barbarian hordes moved in, camping in their beige, brown and dark green tents that dotted the landscape. They devastated the land.
Large and mostly unorganized but still highly dangerous bands of scantily clad men ran or staggered around just outside the outer wall near the south gate. When they weren't throwing up or blacking out, they swung their swords and cursed in equal measure. The air ran foul with swear words and body odor.
Many of the citizens close to the outer wall could hear the men and complained about not being able to protect the innocence of their children but the queen largely ignored them, marching by in full battle gear with a two-handed sword and a hint of pregnancy thanks to the pillow she had stuffed underneath her armor. She was too busy trying to think of a way to stop the men from doing much worse than scandalizing everyone with indecent language. She figured if nothing else, she could try fighting them. She might not have the energy to be able to last long in full battle mode but at least she couldn't be harmed. She'd already tried stabbing herself to various degrees and hadn't felt a thing. After pulling the dagger out, there'd been no wound. Her astral body had just reformed and filled in the hole left by the blade. She continued marching to the front gate and hoped for inspiration.
The scene just outside the front gate was worse than ever. A makeshift battering ram had been cobbled together out of clubs and large splinters of rocks. It was laughable, but with the strength and determination of the men, it might eventually pound its way through the heavy wooden gate, allowing the hordes to invade the castle.
The queen stood looking over the wall to the east side of the gate and shouted out. "Hold, barbarians! I'm here to put a stop to this. Leave now or forfeit your manhood!"
All of the men immediately stopped whatever they were doing and squinted up at the queen. One of them shouted, "Hah! Yer a fake. Come out here and fight if ya dare. I'll pop yer womb like a pimple!"
Some of the citizens of Prizzaria had gathered in the streets near the gate and gasped when they heard the man's response.
Gabrielle narrowed her eyes. "How about just you and I fight? No magic. Just swords."
Those men that were sober enough to follow the conversation muttered when they heard that. They didn't like the idea of having one man fight the queen. If he lost, and he very well could considering how drunk he was, they might lose their motivation and slink back off into the wilderness with their tails between their legs.
One of the more intelligent and still somewhat sober men took control of the situation and interrupted with his own challenge. He was their leader. "Bring out the gimp!" he suddenly shouted.
The leader startled the men but many of them soon got into the spirit of the occasion and started chanting, "Gimp! Gimp! Gimp! Gimp!"
Before long, two burly men emerged from a tent, frog-marching a tall, skinny young man in a toga. The man had long, well-combed tresses on his head and well-groomed eyebrows but otherwise no visible body hair. As he moved, he stumbled several times, obviously favoring his left leg. "Here now!" he shouted. "What's this?! I'm trying to have my tea! I haven't got time for stupid man tricks!"
"Shaddup, ya ducky ponce!" the leader said to the indignant young man. Then he turned and looked up to face the queen. "If you are who you say you are, come down 'ere and change this... man into a woman. He actually wants it so you wouldn't be doin' him any harm. You do that and we all go home."
'Well-played,' the queen thought. 'But I think I like my plan better.'
"Bring him closer to the gate," Gabrielle blustered. "I don't trust you."
"Fine," the leader said, turning to the men holding the young man. "Do as the witch asked."
The queen moved down to ground level and and unlatched a small access door in the gate. She peeked out through a peep hole to make sure it was relatively safe and opened the door.
"Closer," she said to the burly men. "Bring him closer."
The two men holding the young man looked a little nervous but they slowly edged forward, not wanting to lose face in front of their comrades. When they closed the distance to within a sword's length, they stopped and waited, still holding their prisoner.
"Do you two also wish to be changed into women?" the queen asked the two burly men.
"No, ma'am!" The nervous men let go of the young man and quickly backed away.
The young man in the toga stood his ground, looking a little nervous but a little hopeful as well. It appeared as if the loud-mouthed leader wasn't lying about this man wanting to be a woman.
"You," Gabrielle addressed him. "What's your name?"
"Julian," he barely squeaked out. Then, more forcefully, "Julian Moore."
"Well, Julian, today's your lucky day. Do you know why?"
He slowly shrugged his shoulders and gave her a faint smile.
"You're going to live!" she shouted. And with that, she grabbed the young man and pulled him towards the access door. She quickly pushed him through it and yelled for her guards to close and lock it behind her. Then she screamed a battle cry and ran towards the man who threatened to pierce her womb. She had a score to settle.
~o~O~o~
The first target went down easiest. In the queen's solid astral form, her armor and sword barely slowed her down at all. She was on the man before he could get his sword all the way up to parry. She simply ran her sword along the upper edge of his and used it to guide her blade up into his neck for a quick, clean kill. She ran past him and threw herself into the nearest large group of men, spinning and hacking like a buzz saw.
There were nearly two dozen men dead or dying on the blood-soaked ground around her before the leader countered the queen's attack. But he didn't attack her. He knew that was suicide. He knew strong magic when he saw it so he fought magic with magic. He began throwing large balls of fire while shouting to encourage one other fire thrower and three lightning strikers to attack the guards, mostly women, along the top of the outer wall. The screams and smell of seared flesh filled the air, sickening all but the hardiest of barbarians.
With the power of magic, there was no strong motivation to invent bows or gun powder. Primitive weapons weren't needed and wouldn't be as effective. Arrows, spears and even lead shot would be destroyed or turned away by the fire and lightning, as would a weaker magical attack. That meant that the castle guards had no good way to counter the current attack. There were several with significant magical fire power but they were held in reserve where they could hit large numbers of attackers at one time, hopefully after the stronger barbarians had exhausted their magic. They had no good way of fighting back against the concentrated offensive magic being thrown at them by only a strong few. All they could do was try to defend.
The fireballs expanded and spun as they flew up to hit near the top of the wall, and when they hit, they slowly rolled over the top of the wall and stayed there, engulfing everyone in the area. Then they quickly dissipated, the roar of the fire dying down to allow the screams to be heard more easily.
The lightning was worse. The lightning strikers sent out one large lightning bolt to hit the fireballs, actually charging them so they'd later send out dozens of smaller lightning bolts in all directions. The city dwellers nicknamed them electric fireballs and shivered in fear. The barbarians just laughed.
The defenders had a few among their ranks with the power to control the movement of water but it wouldn't be enough to counter the attack. The resulting steam would be just as deadly and they also knew how water could spread the effects of lightning. All they could do was put out fires after the fact.
Gabrielle noticed the carnage. She stopped fighting except to block the occasional attack by those few with enough liquid courage to continue. "What are you doing?!" she screamed. "Stop! Stop at once!!"
Fireballs and lightning took tremendous amounts of magical energy to create and unleash. The leader did stop, but only because he was exhausted after a half dozen fireballs. His comrades stopped too, also running out of energy for the moment. They all wisely kept quiet about that however.
"I call a truce!" the leader shouted, backing away from the castle wall. "Meet me now to discuss terms!" Much more quietly, to his nearest comrade, he said, "Have Barlow prepare a trap for this witch while I keep her busy. Signal me when it's ready."
The other man nodded and ran off.
Gabrielle noticed the exchange. She knew the men couldn't be trusted but she felt confident enough to fend them off. Fire and lightning couldn't hurt her any more than weapons. With a grim look on her face, she marched towards the leader and met him halfway across the battlefield. Together they turned and headed towards a large, square beige tent with a black pennant flying from the center pole. They entered the tent with one extra guard and everyone watching from the city wall held their breath.
~o~O~o~
A single small oil lamp lit the inside of the tent, making it just bright enough to see the squalor of wine-stained cloth, rotting food and general filth. The stench would overpower most people, but the leader didn't seem to mind. The queen didn't care either. Her sense of smell didn't work at all in her astral body. If the leader thought he'd gain an advantage through odor, he was sadly mistaken.
One other man followed the leader into the tent and stood just inside the entrance while the leader motioned Gabrielle to a far corner.
"We can sit there," the leader pointed to the only cleared spot on the floor. It was small but it could fit both of them if they hunched up.
"I'll stand," the queen replied. "And I'll go first."
She listed the only terms she'd accept: unconditional surrender. And she wanted all of the men gone by the next morning. Baths were optional but highly recommended.
"Be reasonable, Queen. We've come a long way and we only want some of what you got."
"If you need food and water, I might see fit to part with some. I don't like the idea of anyone going hungry."
"We're not be needin' any food or water. We came for the women and gold."
Gabrielle scowled. "That isn't going to happen," she said.
"Then we are at what you would call an impasse. I ain't goin' anywhere without a good woman."
The queen sighed and decided to try a different tack. "Do you know what my record is for changing men into women?"
The man at the entrance gulped but otherwise remained silent. The leader just shrugged.
"Seventy three. In one battle, I changed seventy three dangerous men into law-abiding citizens of my domain. And you know what?"
The large smelly man in front of her rolled his eyes and spoke in a bored voice, "What?"
"I am so going to enjoy breaking my record."
"Right. Why haven't you changed any of us so far then? Run out of magic, did ya? Or maybe you somehow traded one kind of magic for another. I ain't never seen anyone move like you did. It ain't natural."
The queen smirked. "I tried giving you a chance to change your ways, to do the decent thing and go home. But it looks like I'll have to change you. Sure, most of you will probably escape me and run back home after I start changing you. But I'm confident I can break my record."
"Yer all talk, Queenie." The man sneered. "You couldn't change the Gimp and you can't change us. You can fight like a she-devil all night if you like, but you won't stop us. We got numbers on our side."
"Ah, by the Gimp you mean Julian. I imagine your men are going to miss Julian."
The man at the entrance nodded.
"We ain't gonna miss him," the leader said, "not after we get inside your prissy castle." He leered as he spoke and wiped a bit of drool from the right corner of his mouth.
The queen just smiled. "What would you do if I changed you? Would you take advantage of the safety of my queendom? Or would you go back home and brave the men who returned with you?"
"It's gettin' late and yer wastin' my time. We will have us some rest tonight, and if you can't change a single one of us by mornin', we'll be attackin'."
Someone opened the tent flap and did a short series of hand signals that only the guard inside could see, then the visitor left as quickly as he came. The guard cleared his throat immediately after.
"Time for you to leave," the leader said.
"Fine," the queen said. "Just think on this. I'll be watching for you in the morning." With that, she turned and walked out, right into their trap. After only a few steps away from the tent, the ground gave way underneath her and she fell a long distance, hitting the bottom hard. It didn't injure her but it did give her a surprise, even more so when men lined the edge of the pit and began dumping dirt and rocks on her, quickly burying her alive.
~o~O~o~
© 2012 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.