On Short Notice

Whimpering wasn't going to get him anywhere. He trundled over to the magic drawer, hoping to find some healing herbs in it. Finding nothing, he opened the drapes to let some light into the room. A knock came at the door, and his snippy aide entered.

"Hello, my master, I'm glad to see you out of bed," she said sarcastically.

"Mina, do you know where I could find some healing herbs? My magic drawer doesn't seem to be stocked." He raised an eyebrow quizzically. His aide belched.

"Nope. And you emptied out your drawer last week. You never told me to refill it." She grinned.

"You little urchin! I'll have you fired if you keep talking back to me like that! Get out!" the man bellowed. The aide scuttled away, obviously tetched. He sighed. Opening the commu box, he found that the pain had increased, and the area was swollen. He swiped at his eyes.

"Yes sire?" came the voice of the assistant over the commu.

"Connect me with Doctor Teremo, please."

"Right away, sire." In a few moments, a new voice came up.

"Hello, Richad. How's your wound?"

"That's what I was calling about. It's swollen. And the pain is up. I'm also feeling a bit delirious," replied Richad.

"Why don't you use some healing herbs? A few more won't hurt you. They'll probably help to remove your delirium."

"Well, I'm out. Mina decided to be snotty again and not stock it. I swear I will have her fired soon!"

"I'll help you if I can. Would you like me to send some up? They'll help to soothe you!" said Doctor Teremo.

"Yes, please. Seven leaves will do. I'd also like a spot of whiskey, too."

"Ho ho! Feeling confident in our healing abilities? Ill have a bit sent along with the herbs."

"Thanks, Doctor," said Richad. His legs started to buckle, and he fell on his pallet, trying hard to ignore the pain. He reflected on the events of the prior day.

The word came in, and the regional governor had given the command. The knights had prepared themselves, knowing that many of them would die that day. They rode hard for nearly three hours, getting jounced badly, finding the small outpost of elves already under attack. Their backup was gladly welcomed, though there seemed not much hope of winning the battle. The knights fought valiantly, slaying many a man. But the necromancers and warlocks backing up the main horde were too much, and they were forced to retreat with whom they could.

Richad had been run through his side, and had a large boulder fall on his leg. When the knights got back to Woodwind Keep, the clerics had been ready to heal. The wound in his side had been tended to and was now almost completely healed, and of course he would have a scar, but his leg had been overlooked in favor of attending to the more serious wounds. At least they had put on a splint.

And now here he was, the next morning. Richad hoped that the herbs would get here soon. He noticed that his stomach was growling, and wished he had thought to ask for some food sent up with them. As it was now, he would have to call Mina back in. He groaned and pulled the service rope. Mina came barging in.

"What is it now? I was just in here a moment ago! What do you want?" she crowed.

"Go to the kitchen and bring me a jug of cider and my breakfast. Also, find my sword. I lost it yesterday in the commotion," said Richad testily.

"Sure, okay, whatever. Will there be anything else my lord?" she scoffed and rolled her eyes at the forced protocol.

"No. Get to it!" scolded Richad. Mina's face turned scarlet, and she bustled out of the room as his commander was coming in.

"Hello, Richad. How are you doing? Is your leg okay?" The commander beckoned at Richad's injury as he spoke.

"It's okay. The pain is bad, though. Doctor Teremo is sending some healing herbs up, seeing as how Mina didn't stock my cabinet." The commander nodded his head in understanding.

"I came to tell you that you're on assignment again. Sorry to do this to you so soon after battle and injury, and I know you're still feeble, but I have no choice. You're our best man for the job. I'd have the clerics do a number on you, but as you can understand, they are exhausted from yesterday."

"Yes, I imagine so. What's my assignment?" asked Richad.

"We have finally made a breakthrough in far-sight. Our paladins are now able to see our enemies, though still vaguely. What we know so far is that they have a massive town, with many people. We need you to go in and plant several sight beacons in their town. This will allow us to see them more clearly. Also, you will need to scout out new mineral mines. Our own are running very low."

Richad sighed. "Fun. I suppose I'll have some kind of shield?"

"The mages are working on it now. As of now, I'm not sure what it will be, but I imagine it will have something to do with invisibility. We'll equip you with the beacons, and new weapons," said the commander.

"Of course. When will you need me to do this?"

"Tomorrow. We figure your shield won't be done until then, and you do still need rest. I'll come get you when-" he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" said Richad. The page from Doctor Teremo came in.

"Your herbs, sire?" asked the young boy.

"Bring them to me. Thank you." The page came and set down a bundle on Richad's bed, accidentally jostling him, then scudded out.

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?" asked Richad as he unwrapped the leaves from the bundle and made a poultice of them, wrapping them around his leg.

"I'll come get you when we ready. Have a good rest." The commander left. Once more alone with his thoughts, Richad ran over what he would have to do.

Obviously, he would have to be invisible. The beacons would need to be set strategically around the base, but his commander would tell him later where to put them. Scouting out a new mine for metals would be harder. He had heard some people in town talking about high metal contents to the east of Artistia, a town, not much more than a few farms, really. He would explore there first, so that if he died in the enemy´s camp, at least Woodwind Keep would know where to go to find more metal.

Mina came blasting in again, not bothering to knock this time.

"Here's you breakfast. Eat it." She set a plate of shriveled cold ham and a loaf of bread down before him. She plopped his jug of cider down on the table next to him.

"Thank you, Mina. Did you find my sword?" asked Richad.

"No. I didn't."

"Okay. And Mina? Go to the library and stay there for the rest of the day. You're forbidden to come out until I come and get you. Don't linger now!" His tone was icy. Mina gaped, then stalked from the room, snarling something about being an ungrateful slob. Her voice was creaky, nonetheless. With that, Richad fell asleep, some of the pain having abated in his leg.

Next morning, his commander came in to wake him up.

"Good morning, Richad. Feeling better today?"

"Much better. How about you?" replied Richad.

"Fine, fine. I was wondering, did you know Mina spent all of yesterday and the entire night in the library? She refused to come out." The commander held out a flannel for Richad. "Might need this."

"She did? I told her to yesterday, but I didn't expect her to obey me. Maybe there's hope for her yet. You can tell her that she can come out," his voice curdled as he took the flannel and put it on.

"I'll do that. Anyway, we have your shield ready. The mages stayed up all night working on it. I also have a hazy map of the enemy town, with the spots where you will need to place the beacons marked. Here, I'll help you down to the meeting room." The commander stuck out his arm and Richad grabbed hold of it. Richad was wobbly, but together they hobbled downstairs, stopping by the kitchen for breakfast and a tonic for Richad before going to the meeting. Once there, they were seated, and a mage stood up.

"What we have here is what we call a cloak. Special armor that will make you just a fuzzy outline, it also has protection spells from missile and blade. You will need to carry a magic powerbox on your back, and though it's bulky, it will be invisible too. We also have made a sword that is cloaked. It is a normal sword, possibly even a bit dull by your standard, but it will serve if you have to use it." The mage sat down, and his commander stood, spreading a map on the table before them.

"This is a tentative map of the enemy's town. As you can see, their main command center is located here," he pointed to a spot on the map, "and this will certainly be a spot for a sight beacon. Over here is their training center. This will be another beacon. Then over here..." the commander droned on about where Richad was to place the sight beacons, how, and when.

Leaving later that day, he would scout out the supposed metal mine, then stay the night in a town on the way to the enemy camp. Then he would place the beacons and make his way back. The mages would be monitoring him, using the beacons he carried to map out the way to the enemy.

Two days later, Richad was nearly to the enemy's base. He invoked the cloaking armor, as the mages had shown him. Fear gnawed at him. Then he marched on into the heart of enemy territory, over a crest. At first when he approached a guard, he was skittish, and tried to avoid them. But it soon became clear that he was not visible, and he hurried to the spots where he was to place the beacons. The beacon at the command center went well, and so did the one at the barracks. But the most dangerous one, at the mage's area where they might have detected him, did not go as smoothly. He slid up to the wall, going as silently as possible. As he was setting down the beacon and burying it, a nearby guard perked up, looking around as if he had heard something. Richad hesitated, trying to be completely inaudible. The stocky guard looked around warily, then went back to playing with his sword. Richad finished burying the beacon, and sneaked away. The guard perked up again, and Richad froze. The man squinted at him, and Richad was forced to wonder if the guard could see him. But seeming to look right through him, the guard came forward. Richad pulled his sword, his face turning ashen and his hands clammy, just to be sure, but the guard passed right by him, heading for a foreman Richad sighed heavily, then bolted toward the edge of the camp.

When he was almost there, an archer stopped in his rounds. He peered around. Readying his bow, he searched carefully, as though looking for something. Richad drew his sword again, and silently came up behind the archer. He pounced on the man, his sword through the man's back, cutting easily through the light robes the archer wore. Richad had hoped not to have to kill anyone, but now that hope was shattered.

It must have looked very odd to the archer's friends, seeing a sudden hole rip through the man. They drew their swords and converged on Richad. He tried to dodge, but they were clever, and had closed a circle about him. Richad ducked their slashes, parrying when he had to, but he soon realized he would fatigue before he got out. He threw his sword as well as he could, hitting a burly man in the head, and raced for the opening in the circle. But in doing so, he betrayed his position to the others, and they converged on him. He tried to reverse, but they drove their swords into him. Thinking of the armor that was supposed to protect him, he wondered why he was dying. But it was over for him. At least he had completed his missions. The last thing he saw was his blood mixing with the current of a stream as he fell into it.

Back in Woodwind Keep, Richad's commander received the news. He drew his sword and held it flat against his heart, mourning for his lost friend and best warrior, and feeling woozy. At least Richad had done so much good for them before dying. The sight beacons were in place, and they could see clearly just about everything that was going on in the enemy town. Richad had given his life, probably winning the war for them in the process. The commander shut his eyes, feeling a silent tear roll down his cheek. Trying to look steely and to control his quivery lips, he wondered vaguely how Mina would take the news. The whole regency would suffer from Richad's death. Much good had been done by him.

As I recall, this was one of those assignments where you had a list of vocabulary words and had to use as many of them as you could in a story. Surprisingly, the story turned out "not bad". When I read this a year or two later, I was actually shocked at how good it was... for the time when I wrote it.