Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign - By Phillip Jones Page 0,254

sure I’m being insolent.”

The leader of the army removed his fur cloak and pulled his war hammer from his hip. He pointed it at George. As soon as he did, the seven cats took defensive postures and snarled in a display of power. They spanned the width of the throne room and warned the overzealous barbarian that he was making a terrible decision. Even Maldwin was ready to use his visions. The rodent’s head was sticking out of George’s pack as he looked over the mage’s shoulder, and his nose was twitching with excitement.

“Only a swine would not fight his own battles,” Fergus sneered as he studied the opposition. He pointed to the stuffed trophies around the room. “If you didn’t have your companions, I’d add you to the king’s collection.”

George laughed. “My King, perhaps a demonstration is in order.”

Senchae stood from his throne and spoke to the general. “I’ll allow you to battle, but if you get blood on my trophies, you’ll replace them with your own. I warn you, it’s a mistake to fight this human. He’s not weak.”

“I know what I’m doing, Sire. You don’t need this swine spreading his stench throughout our kingdom. I’ll govern your protection, not this piece of garesh!” The general spun his hammer in his hand.

The king gave George a glance. “What of your cats?”

The mage turned and motioned for them to move toward the walls. He lowered Maldwin to the floor and asked Kepler to call the rodent to him. “Tell the tigers I don’t want their help. Make sure they don’t interfere.” He turned to Maldwin and held up his thumb. “Everything is A-okay, man!”

“Everything is A-okay, George,” the rat responded in a high pitched voice.

Again, the general rolled his hammer in his hand. “Are you going to play with your mouse ... or are you going to fight?”

George rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever, Sergeant Slaughter!” He looked at Senchae. “My King, perhaps there are others we should invite to watch your general’s display of power. I’d hate for the people of this great kingdom to miss an event like this.”

Senchae understood that George was going to make an example of Fergus. The king would allow an audience, since it was long past the moment for an apology.

The king clapped his hands to summon his servants and then sent them to retrieve all those who were in his castle-lodge. It was not long before the room was packed with onlookers who were tucked between the giant cats, and an area was cleared for the men to fight.

Senchae commanded the room’s attention. “This battle will be to the death. These men have points of view that must be expressed. May their blood stain the floor of my throne room. Glory is in victory!” Bloodvain was anxious to see the extent to which George would go to make his point.

Fergus nodded, and then he turned to face George. “This is to the death, swine! If you leave our kingdom, I’ll let you live. Go back to your pig-of-a-mother and crawl back into the hole you came out of!”

George yawned. “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! Are we fighting, or are you going to insult me into oblivion?”

Kepler growled. “End him, George! You can eat him like you eat everyone else.”

The mood in the room was so intense, and Maldwin was so excited to add his two Helmep worth that he screamed as loud as his tiny body would allow, “I like cheese, George!”

Everyone in the room turned, including General Fergus. They all looked strangely at the rat. After a moment of awkwardness, Fergus shrugged and then turned his attention back to his enemy.

“What can I say?” George said with a casual grin. “He likes his cheese!”

Without another word, Fergus attacked, swinging his hammer at George’s head. The mage dodged the advance, rolled out of the way and stood. “Is that the best you’ve got? You’re killing me, man. You’ve got to do better than that. Please ... don’t miss again.”

Fergus howled as he made his next advance. Again, he missed.

George shook his head. “Tsk! Tsk! Tsk, General. How could you be the leader of an army? Your movements are too slow. My King, you need a competent general ... not a fool. I’ve seen servant wenches move faster than this clown.”

Neither Senchae nor Fergus knew that the mage was using his magic to increase his speed. George would toy with Fergus a bit more before he took the