Patrick S. Smith

My Friend, Death

Published in Bewildering Stories issue 1107

Coming October 11, 2026 - now on preorder. Inbul, the man credited for starting the Sage of Elhrub.

A link to one of my stories

My Pet Capuchins

Oh, what to write? What to write?  So many projects I’m working on.

“Forget about them, they’re no good,” I hear someone whisper.

True, but they’re just drafts.  A little spit and polish after I’m done and there are those who will appreciate them.

“No, they’ll never be any good.”

“Ok, who is trying to distract me?” I ask, looking around.

“I am.  I’m Imposter Syndrome.  I’m why you can’t succeed.  You have no originality.”

“Oh, really?  First off, ‘success’ is a relative term. Every time someone reads my writing, I am a success.”

“Second, I used to have twenty-six personalities.  Granted, one was homicidal and killed two of the others so now I only have twenty-three.  And don’t try to argue with me on that, I’ve taken roll and done the math.”

“Third, my mind is like a twelve speed blender where all the buttons are labeled ‘frape.’ Also, the ‘off’ button doesn’t work.”

“Finally, I revel in chaos.  Not that random, light-weight stuff.  I’m talking the raw, ultra concentrated, high test stuff.  The sort of thing that would unravel the fabric of the universe and sew it into a pillow at the same time.”

“But…” he tries to protest.  Not nearly as cock sure as he was a moment ago.

I point to the corner.  “You see that ninety-pound quivering mass there?  That is what is left of Doubt when he tried to stop me.  And now I’d like to call your attention to the two, fifty-stone capuchins sitting on the couch.  They are Confidence and Patience, the ones who broke Doubt. Would you like to say hello?”

“Wait, Imposter! Since you are leaving, would you be so kind and give Doubt a lift home?”

Damn.  Now I have to mop the floor.

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me."

Last Dance

DEATH's Holiday

The Chaos of Me

Readers have called it “powerful,” “moving,” and “intense.”

Check out my YoutTube channel if you want to see my latest updates or hear readings of my stories and poems

A link to one of my poems - From my book "The Chaos of Me."

Why Is It So

A link to one of my stories

Twisted Trope #2

The story thus far:

The Gang of Dozen were following the barbarian through the marshy woods, looking for their quarry, a dragon.

Accused and convicted in connection with the death of one of the city guards, they now followed the real killer.  A barbarian named Ugh.

The witch Azaranna, who used her magic to increase his strength, aided him.  Only by sheer luck, the city watch had caught her before she could grab a broom and make her escape.

Now, The Gang of Dozen shared the same fate as the barbarian and the witch.   They had to slay the dragon, return its horns and save the Magistrate’s kid, Tailor, or die trying.

Lucky Seven, though, had a plan to save their skins and get revenge on the barbarian and witch.

<Author’s comments>

All right, who was messing with the story and the plot?  Oh, you, number seven.  Ok, you’re out, fired, erased.  I don’t care about what your union says.  Read your contract, section 8, part 3, paragraph 5, sub-paragraph 4.  “C and D type characters may only offer changes to the plot and/or story after the first draft or outline is written.  Violations of this may trigger, Section 8, part 3, Paragraph 5, Sub-Paragraph 1, item C.”

Item C allows me to void your contract and remove you from the story.  Your union can’t help you out on this one, especially since I’ve already contacted them about it.

Now, back to THE story.

—

Ugh led the group through the forest, carefully negotiating the patches of the soft boggy ground.  Occasionally, he would stop and sniff the air.

Behind him came the eleven prisoners who constantly complained among themselves about the conditions of the forest and the bugs.  They were tired, hungry and thirsty, as they had had nothing since the evening before.

Bringing up the rear were Azaranna, Incognito and the dwarf, who was constantly being ushered on as he would stop to have a drink.  Every time Azaranna and Incognito stopped to prod the dwarf to keep up, Incognito would complain how the muck had ruined his boots and pants.

The group detected the acrid stench of decay and something else when Ugh made one of his stops.  This set off a fresh round of complaints from the prisoners.

“You should say something like ‘excuse me’ when you break wind like that,” Incognito said to Ugh.  “There is a woman and a gentleman present.”

“I’m a dwarf, not a woman,” the dwarf said.

Ugh looked back at Incognito and shook his head as he said, “Ugh.”

“Well, if he didn’t pass gas, what is that horrible smell?”

Azaranna lowered her head as she shook it.  “You are a fool. We’re downwind of the dragon.”

Incognito wrinkled his nose as he fanned his hand in front of his face.  “I didn’t think anything living could smell that bad.”

“It is not the dragon we’re smelling.  It is its droppings.  And you best keep your complaining to yourself from here on.  Don’t want the dragon to hear you.”

Incognito swallowed hard and nodded that he understood Azaranna.  Ugh slowly started moving forward again.

It was another hour before they came to a small rise where the ground wasn’t soggy.  The trees on the hillock started thinning, and the group could see where some trees had been knocked down.  What remained of these trees were just jagged, splintered stumps.  They could hear a low, rhythmic rumble not far off.

Ugh motioned everyone back and crept forward up the hillock.  When he got to the last of the trees, he carefully looked around before coming back to join the others.  There, he signaled everyone to follow him.

He led them to a spot a hundred yards away from where they had just been.  Here the trees were naturally wider spaced, so fewer littered the ground.  The canopy overhead was a net of intertwined limbs and thick branches.

Ugh walked around at the clearing as if he was surveying it.  He then sat down at a drafting table and adjusted his green eyeshade by pulling on the miniature tuba that was affixed to one side.

“Well?  Was it up there?” asked one prisoner.

“Ugh.”

“And?”

“Ugh.”

Waving his hand at Ugh, the man turned and started creeping up the hill.  “I’m going to have a look for myself.”

“That may be a bad idea,” Azaranna said in her ‘other’ voice before she covered her mouth.

Incognito looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  “How is someone who can actually talk going to look at the dragon a bad idea?  And what is up with your voice?”

Azaranna coughed and then patted her chest.  “Nothing, just a frog in my throat.”

“Ugh has already looked up there.  I think he is trying to make a plan. So no need for someone else to go up there.  Just like there was no need for you to have worn light colored pants. And didn’t Ugh have a helmet on earlier with a ram’s horn?”

“I thought it was a bull’s horn.  And what do you mean I shouldn’t have worn light colored pants?  Though I appreciate your concern about this muck showing so horribly, I simply wouldn’t look dashing in dark pants,” Incognito said with a flourish of his arm.

“That is not what she meant,” the dwarf said as he took a long sip of his beer.

“Anyway, I suspect those twelve ruffians, plus Ugh, and the dwarf will be more than enough to dispatch the dragon.”

“Eleven.”

Turning on the dwarf, Incognito said, “Twelve.  You are so drunk you can’t count.”

“You’re so full of yourself you aren’t paying attention.”

Incognito then counted the other prisoners, only to find out there were eleven.  “What happened?  There were twelve before.”

Azaranna put her fingers to her temples.  “You are going to give me a migraine.  One of them got erased for trying to alter the story.”

Incognito’s jaw dropped and said, “That is a horrible way to go.  Who would do such a thing?”

“The author.”

Just then, the prisoner who had gone up the hillock returned.  “Now is our chance.  The wurm is asleep.  We just need to sneak up there and rush it.  It will never know what happened until after it is dead.  We don’t need the rest of them and we can keep all the glory to ourselves.”

The other ten prisoners nodded at the plan and a few said, “Ya,” at the idea.  They quickly got ready and headed back to where the dragon was sleeping.

Ugh seemingly took no notice of what transpired, so when he looked up from his drafting table, the men had gone.  He looked at his three remaining companions and said, “Ugh?” with a slight tilt of his head.

The dwarf stopped drinking long enough to say, “They went up there to kill the dragon,” as he pointed in the direction the others went.

Immediately, Ugh stood up from the drafting table and stuck his papers in his loincloth.  He then strode over to the others and took the dwarf and Azaranna by the hand and led them to a small outcropping of rocks.

In protest, Azaranna said, “Slow down, Ugh.  You don’t have to drag us.”

“Wait.  What is the meaning of this?  Why am I being left behind?”  Incognito said, following the others.

In the distance, the four heard a cry of “Charge,” followed by a growl and a cacophony of screams of terror and pain.  Then there was near silence, except for a few faint whimpers that didn’t last long.

Incognito’s face went all white at the sounds.  “W… What was that?”

The dwarf looked at him with a sly grin and said, “The dragon.  Now you know why Az hinted you should be wearing dark pants.”

“My name is Azaranna.  No one calls me ‘Az’,” Azaranna said as she slapped the dwarf in the back of the head.

Ugh just looked around sheepishly as he tried to whistle.

“Azaranna, that was a mean thing to do,” Azaranna said in her other voice.

Ugh looked at Azaranna questioningly while Incognito had a face that was a mix of scorn and bewilderment.  “Are you ok?  Did you hit your head or something?”

“She didn’t hit her head.  She hit me in the head.  Nearly spilled my beer.”

Azaranna lowered her head and said sheepishly, “No.  I have a problem.  I’m possessed by an angel.”

The group all looked at her.

“Ugh?”

“I think you meant it is a blessing, not a problem,” Incognito said, tilting his head.

“No. It is a problem.  He keeps interfering with what I try to do and say.  Because of him, there is little magic I can do.”

In a different voice, she said, “I’m sorry Azaranna.  You can be really mean at times and I really can’t just stand by and let you do it.”

“Well, if you really are an angel, then maybe you can do something about that dragon.  I really would like to see Tailor rescued.”

“Ha.  Maroth is pretty useless in that regard.  He might be able to shield me some, but that is about it.”

Incognito’s eyes widened when he heard this.  “You mean she’s stuck unless we somehow kill the dragon ourselves?  Now those others have gone off and gotten themselves killed, there is no way we can.”

This set off a round of discussion between Azaranna, Incognito and Maroth about what to do while the dwarf just stood there drinking.  They did not notice that Ugh had gone off with some rope and a ladder.

The group was still debating on what to do when Ugh returned.  “Ugh,” he said as he presented the dwarf his hammer.

The dwarf took the hammer and said, “Thanks, didn’t know I dropped it.”

Then Ugh stooped down and picked Azaranna up by the waist and slung her over his shoulder and carried back to the clearing they had come from earlier.  “Hey, put me down. What are you doing?” she said in protest.

“Ugh.”

Once Ugh reached the clearing, he deftly tied Azaranna to a tree and attempted to whistle, but only made a “hoo” noise.

“What is this all about?  Untie me.”

Maroth added, “Yes.  Untie us.  You are being very ill mannered.”

Incognito approached Ugh and asked, “Are you trying to whistle?  Like this?”  He then let out a high-pitched whistle.

Ugh smiled and shook his head.  “Ugh,” he said as he grabbed Incognito by the arm and led them back to the rocks for cover.

“Get back here.  Don’t leave me tied to this tree.  What if the dragon comes?”

“You mean I summoned the dragon with that whistle?” Incognito said, his face white and his lips quivering.

Just then, the group heard the low rumble of the dragon, followed by the rustling of the debris on the ground as the dragon started to move.  Slowly, they could hear the dragon coming nearer, while Azaranna and Maroth took turns protesting.

Then they could see the dragon’s head.  It was easily two feet wide with iridescent green scales and the horns on its head were white like alabaster.  The dragon surveyed the clearing as it approached Azaranna.

As it took one more step closer, a stick broke with an abnormal sound.  This caused a rabbit to bolt out of its hiding place. A falcon immediately spotted the rabbit and launched itself at it. Tied to the falcon’s talon was a short leather strap.  When the falcon reached the end of the strap, the jerk pulled out a knot that was holding a heavy log up off the ground.  Now free of the knot, the log was free to swing into the branch that the falcon had been perched on.  When it hit, the impact startled the chicks in the nest.

The dragon and everyone else, except Ugh, watched in total mesmerization at the events as they unfolded.  For his part, Ugh watched, making sure everything happened as he had planned it.

When chicks started calling out, the dragon was looking straight up, its mouth partially open.  It was totally unaware when the acorn fell into its mouth.

Immediately, the dragon started making a gagging and wheezing noise as it thrashed about.  Several times it tried to cough, but could not.  It reared back on its hind legs and threw itself violently backwards onto some trees, knocking them over.

This went on for several minutes before the dragon collapsed to the ground, its wheezing growing fainter with every breath.  Eventually, its eyelids started drooping as its limbs no longer thrashed about.  They would only twitch occasionally.

Finally, the dragon laid still.  

Through all the dragon’s thrashing, Azaranna kept screaming for the others to untie her or come get her out of harm’s way.  By the time the dragon had stopped moving, she was exhausted and slumping in the rope that held her to the tree.

Ugh and the others stayed at the rocks for several minutes after the dragon stopped moving.  Finally, convinced the dragon was now dead, Ugh stood up.

Incognito carefully peaked over the rock from which he had been hiding.  He blinked several times in disbelief at what he saw.  “I don’t believe it.  You lured the dragon into a trap and killed it.  Why didn’t you say something?  I may not have soiled myself if you had.”

“Hey stink bottom.  In case you forgot, he ain’t got much of a vocabulary.  Still, I’ll toast to you, Ugh.”  The dwarf raised his horn in a salute to Ugh before taking a long drink.

Ugh took one step towards Azaranna and the dragon when the dragon twitched again.  Ugh pulled his stick out of his loincloth and prepared to fight the dragon.  Incognito ducked behind the rock again, saying, “I think I fouled myself again.”

When there was no more movement from the dragon, Ugh put his stick away and began looking over his plans, making several “ugh’s” to himself.  He walked over to the tree where Azaranna was tied up and undid it.

She collapsed into Ugh, who caught her with one arm, his eyes never leaving his papers.  Once Azaranna got her feet firmly underneath herself again, she said, “About time.  I don’t appreciate being used as bait without asking.  And just so you know, for the next time, the answer is ‘NO.’”

Seeing that Ugh had all but ignored her as he focused on the papers in his hand.  She glanced at them and saw it was nothing more than a series of random lines and squiggles.  Whatever was on the paper, it had Ugh’s full attention.

“I think you switched from gradians to degrees without converting,” Maroth said.

Ugh looked over the paper again and started nodding his head.  “Ugh,” he said as he put the paper back in his loincloth.

“You could read that, Maroth?  It looked like chicken scratches to me.”

“It looked like chicken scratches to me, as well.  But the poor fellow seemed perplexed about something with his trap, so I just mentioned something about a conversion issue.”

Incognito was now standing by the rock when asked, “Is the dragon dead?  I’d like to change my pants before we go free Tailor.”

Azaranna looked at the dragon.  Ugh was now kneeling by the dragon’s head, his ear resting on the dragon’s forehead.  Gingerly, he twisted the tip of one of its horns back and forth between his thumb and index finger.

“It looks like it’s dead.  Ugh is trying to remove one of its horns,” she said.

Incognito disappeared behind the rock again, only to reemerge wearing fresh clean pants identical to the ones he had on earlier.  “Now that I’m presentable, it is time for me to rescue the fair maiden Tailor,” he said as he started up the incline.

“Wait,” Azaranna called out to Incognito.  “Let’s wait for Ugh before we go up to the dragon’s den.  No telling what else might be up there.”

It was only a few seconds later when Ugh sat up and gave the horn a final twist.  Both the horns came off at the same time.  He then picked up both horns before standing to face Azaranna.  “Ugh,” he said as he handed her one horn while stuffing the other in his loincloth.

Azaranna took the offered horn and put it in her herb pouch.  “Thank you Ugh.  Ready to rescue Tailor?”

“Ugh.”

The four made their way to the top of the rise, where it leveled off.  It was an area of about thirty yards in diameter where fallen trees scattered about and partially burned.  Strewn about this were the unidentifiable remains of the dragon’s victims, including the eleven men who had just met their fate.

In the center was a collection of stones and unburnt logs that looked like it was a nest for the dragon.  Close to it was another pile of unburned logs.  The group picked their way through the wasteland to this structure.

“Lady Tailor, where are you?” Incognito called out.

“I’m in the middle of this pile of logs,” an odd voice said.  It had more bass to it than the group and expected.

They hurried over to the pile of logs and examined it.  Though it seems to be a jumbled mess nine feet in height, the top seemed to be open.  Ugh immediately started climbing up to the top of the pile.

Incognito tried looking between the logs.  “Do not worry, lady Tailor, we will get you out.  Someone is trying to see if they can get you out from up top.”

Just as Incognito said this, Ugh made it to the top and dropped inside.

“Oh, great.  Now that lummox is there with lady Tailor.  How are we going to get them out?”

As if in answer to Incognito’s question, Tailor’s mud streaked head and torso emerged, coming out the top.  Incognito immediately started scrambling up the pile to Tailor.  Before he could reach Tailor, they had deftly hoisted themselves over the edge and started making their way down with no aid.

While Tailor was climbing down, Azaranna unfurled her whip and tossed it across the top of what had been Tailor’s prison.  As it uncoiled, it grew in length.  “Ugh, when I tell you to, use my whip to climb out.  The rest of you, help me hold on to the whip while he climbs up.”

She then saw two, hair knuckled, muscular hands grab the whip.  When she looked to see who had taken hold of it, she saw Ugh looking at her with a cheshire grin.

“Ugh,” he said.

“What? How did you get out?  Don’t bother, I won’t be able to understand you,” Azaranna said, shaking her head in disbelief.  Ugh released his grip on her whip and then she recoiled it.

By now, Tailor had passed Incognito coming down, and once firmly on the ground said, “That is it!  I’m done, I’m through.  Does one of you have a knife?”  They grabbed their braid ponytail and pulled it around to the front.  

Azaranna reached into her herb bag and soon produced a small knife, which she handed to Tailor.  Tailor took the knife and said, “Too bad I don’t have a rag or something to wipe my face with,” they said as they began cutting off their ponytail.  While Tailor was cutting off their ponytail, Ugh offered a wet rag.

After cutting off the ponytail, Tailor handed the knife back to Azaranna and took the rag from Ugh.  Tailor used it to wipe their face and the back of their neck, revealing a blondish stubble on his face.

Azaranna’s eyes widened when she looked at his cleaned face and cropped hair.  “You’re a man,” she said.

“A man?” Incognito asked as he finished climbing back down.  “I thought the dragon had kidnapped the Magistrate’s daughter.  Ugh, you forgot to get Tailor out.”

“My name is Tailor and I am the Magistrate’s son.”

“And you have a sister named Tailor also?”

Tailor shook his head.  “I’m an only child.”

Incognito’s mouth moved as he was trying to say something, but produced no sound.  Ugh had a slightly repressed smirk on his face, while Azaranna covered her mouth to suppress a giggle.  The dwarf simply stood idly by and drank.

Finally, flustered, Incognito said, “You aren’t one of those funny types, are you?”

Tailor half glared back at Incognito.  “If you mean ‘funny’ as in enjoying acting, yes.  ‘Funny’, as if I’m into men or think I’m a woman, no.  Though, some of my fellow actors are.  I could introduce you, if you like.”

Incognito’s face had an indignant look on it as the other three members of the party laughed uncontrollably, the dwarf spraying beer as he laughed.

“Thank goodness I’m out of that prison.  Thank you.”  Tailor then reached out and shook Ugh and the dwarf’s hand before hugging Azaranna.

“So I take it the dragon grabbed you while you were performing or something?” Azaranna asked.

Tailor shook his head.  “No, I was taking a walk in the garden.  I started dressing like a girl when I was ten just to get my father to pay attention to me.  A fat lot of good that did me.  It has been fifteen years since my mother left and I started wearing dresses and he still hasn’t noticed she’s left.”

Ugh put a comforting hand on Tailor’s shoulder as Azaranna said, “Well, your father kind of sent us to rescue you.  It was either try or be executed.”

Tailor’s eyes lit up at this.  “Really? He actually noticed I was missing?”

After a loud belch, the dwarf said, “Nope.  Two nights ago when we got picked up, the theater owner pitched a fit to the Magistrate that the dragon had snatched you.  First the Magistrate had heard of it.”

“But I’ve been gone a week,” Tailor said.  His head and shoulders slumped at the news.

Azaranna looked at the dwarf and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yep.  I recognized the owner from when I saw ‘The Pauper’s Tale.’ Tailor did a fine job in it.  But whoever played the horse was outstanding in it.”

Smiling, Tailor looked at the dwarf and said, “You really think so?  And that was a horse.”

In response, the dwarf cocked his head to one side and raised his drinking horn before taking another drink.

“Still, you’re free now.  Free to do what you want to do.  But may I ask one favor of you?” Maroth asked.

“Depends on what it is, but yes.”

“Escort us back to town so that Azaranna, Ugh, and the dwarf can be pardoned.”

Tailor looked at Azaranna questioningly, his head cocked to one side.  “Is there a second woman with you?”

“No, just me,” Azaranna said.  “It’s just… I’m trying to work through a problem right now.”

“I think I will be too, so I won’t press you,” Tailor said with a slight nod.  “Does this other gentleman need a pardon from my father also?”

The dwarf, Ugh, and Azaranna all laughed.  “I nearly spewed my beer again.  You’re a good comedian.  No, pretty boy here thought you were a damsel in distress and volunteered.”

Things My Mother Never Told Me 

The Seeress.  The stories about her are countless.  Who she is and where she comes from is shrouded in mystery.  People say she is the harbinger of good tidings or calamity. 

A link to one of my stories 

Twisted Trope #1 

Five wagons rumbled down the road to the edge of the swamp, their wheels crushing the stray blades of grass that tried to grow in the ruts. The horses and mules that pulled the carts hung their heads in the warmth of the late morning.

Eight soldiers sat in the back of the first wagon. The dour expression on their faces showed they did not want to be here or like the task assigned to them.

The next wagon was a prison wagon. A simple affair with two small windows and a heavily latched door, much like a cell, in which contained a single prisoner. The young man was lean, with well knotted muscles. He wore only a loincloth and was curled up asleep like a baby in the straw in the cage. His pending fate did not seem to concern him.

After it, rolled an open air wagon with a vertical post affixed to it. A woman, clad in a dark-colored robe, was standing with her wrists shackled together near the top of the post. Because of her shorter height, she had the appearance that she was stretching, and at times, she seemed to whisper to herself through her gag.

Lounging on some crates at the foot of the woman was a youthful looking and well-dressed man. This dandy was hiding his face from the sun underneath his wide-brimmed hat.

Next came two more prison wagons. The first had bars in place of sides. There were a dozen men inside cramped together. Ruffians who had caused the Magistrate too much trouble in too short of time. They were filthy and foul tempered from being in close corners together.

Behind this, the last wagon of the same design as the first. Its sole occupant was a grimy dwarf whose last bath was a bucket of water tossed on him three weeks ago. His beard was soggy from where he had been drinking beer from a horn and sloshed repeatedly.

These fifteen prisoners were sentenced to die. The dandy had volunteered to die. That is, they would die unless they could perform a task for the Magistrate: Kill a dragon and rescue his child, Tailor.

The driver of the lead wagon leaned over to the captain, who was sitting beside him, and asked, “What is the story with the prisoners?”

The captain shook his head. “Don’t know. I don’t think the author has developed them that far yet. If he has, we’re just a couple of C-type characters, so he won’t tell us unless he needs us to say something about them.”

“What are you on about?” the driver said, cocking an eyebrow at the captain.

“C-types, like us, are usually thrown into a story to move things along or to explain something. We at least get a purpose in the story other than fill, unlike those D-types back there.”

“But even if I knew something more about those four B-types, I can’t say anything without permission because of the NDA’s we are under.”

The driver screwed his face. “NDA’s?”

“Non-Disclosure Agreements. We are not allowed to talk about the details of the story outside of it or we could get deleted,” the captain said with a slight nodding of his head.

The driver shook his head. “No. I mean, what did those sixteen prisoners do to get this type of death?”

“Oh, that. The lot in the prison wagon were all part of a tavern brawl where captain Major got killed.” The captain nodded his head towards the wagons behind them.

The driver’s eyes got wide. “Major was only a captain. I thought he was a Major. Anyway, it took twelve men to take him down? I knew he was tough, but I never dreamt that.”

“Nope, just another captain. Anyway, those blokes didn’t kill him. They were the ones brawling. That guy in the loincloth in the wagon behind us is the one who killed him.”

“Him? By himself? Sleeping like a baby without a mark one on him. How?”

The captain shrugged his shoulders. “Ripped his arm off.”

The driver’s jaw dropped. “Ripped his arm off? How?”

“Yeah, Major wanted to arm wrestle him and he just ripped Major’s arm off. “

“All over because the Captain Major wanted to arm wrestle?”

Shaking he head, the captain said, “Not because Major wanted to arm wrestle, because Major did arm wrestle him. As I heard it, it was a legit match. That guy jerked Major’s arm over so hard and fast that he broke the table and ripped Major’s arm off in one swoop. When he broke the table, it sent stuff flying, which set off the brawl.”

“Feel bad for Captain Major, but I would have liked to have seen that. But what of the others?”

The captain rubbed his chin. “Well, the dwarf got picked up after the brawl. He was coming into the travel after the Watch closed it down for the night. He got upset and started punching and kicking people to get to the bar to get a drink. Funny thing is, that horn he has is full of beer and doesn’t seem to run out.”

“The woman tied to the stake, they think she is a witch.”

The driver let out a little gasp. “A witch?”

Again, the captain nodded. “At least they suspect her to be one. She was in the tavern when the fight broke out and a couple of people reported that some objects thrown in her direction hit some sort of invisible wall.”

The driver closed his eyes. “Surely they tested her.”

“They did. They dunked her and she floated, but when they doused her with holy water, nothing happened. The tribunal couldn’t decide if she is or isn’t, so they’re treating her like one until they’re convinced she isn’t.”

The driver nodded as he fixed his eyes on the road. “So then, the guy in the cart with her is one of those witch hunters?”

The captain laughed. “Nope. Just some stupid dandy who volunteered to join this miserable lot when he heard they were being sent to rescue Tailor, the Magistrate’s kid. He seemed to get all hot and bothered by it, and he never bothered to find out a dragon took Tailor.”

The driver doubled over laughing, and the captain quickly joined him. “Oh, is he in for a surprise then,” he said once he caught his breath.

The procession rolled on for another hour as the field on one side slowly gave way to forest, initially, then dipped down to a boggy marsh. Plainly heard were the sounds of frogs and the buzz of insects. On the other side of the road was a farmer who was plowing the field with an ox.

“Stop,” said the captain. “This is as good as any spot.” He waived his arm signaling the others to stop as well. He then climbed down and walked to the farmer.

A few minutes later, the captain and the farmer, who was now leading his ox, came back to the wagons. “All right men, get up and get things unloaded,” he said to the soldiers in the back of the first wagon.

The eight men stood and jumped down off the wagon. They first went to the witch’s wagon where they roused the dandy and pulled off three crates that they set on the ground. Then went to the next wagon and pulled out the twelve prisoners. Of these, they selected two to go to the wagon that held the dwarf and ordered them to remove him.

One of the two prisoners climbed into the wagon with the dwarf. Once inside, he started to rustle the dwarf to get up and get out of the wagon. The sounds of some scuffling and the dwarf bellowing something unintelligible soon followed this. The prisoner who had gone inside came hurtling out of the wagon and landed on his back with a heavy thud.

The dwarf, whose face was flushed red, then appeared at the door saying, “I’m going to pound you…” His words were cut short by the spears of two guards in his face. “Easy lads. Can’t a dwarf enjoy a drink,” he said, a smile appearing under his beer drench beard and mustache as he took a long draw from his horn.

“Come on. Out with you,” one guard barked at the dwarf.

The dwarf finished his drink and slowly climbed down saying, “Alright, alright. You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

The other prisoner went to help his companion up. The man laying on the ground appeared to have a broken nose as it was shifted to one side and now bleeding profusely. In addition, one of his eyes was swelling.

As the two prisoners and the dwarf were ushered to where the other prisoners were standing, the guards selected another pair of prisoners to retrieve the man in the second wagon. After seeing what had happened to the first pair, these two were far more cautious in their approach.

Much to their relief, the two prisoners didn’t have to do much more than gently shake the man’s leg to wake him up. He willingly climbed out of the wagon and with a long, loud yawn of “Ugh,” he stretched and adjusted his helmet so that its single bull’s horn faced up.

Finally, two guards went to retrieve the witch. One of them hoisted her up by the waist while the other used his spear point to unhook her chain from the post before leading her to the prisoners. With every prod and touch, she would protest through her gag and try to lash out.

While the prisoners were being assembled the captain and farmer had led the ox to a tree and had hitched it there. He then turned and motioned the guards to bring the prisoners down to the edge of the swamp.

Once everyone had assembled, the captain looked at the dandy and asked, “You name, sir?”

“Incognito,” the dandy said in reply.

“Sorry sir. I have to make an official statement so I will need your name.”

“Incognito. That is my name.”

The captain took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I don’t have time for games.”

“F. A. Incognito. My father was T. F. Incognito,” the dandy said with a slight wave of his hand.

The captain rolled his eyes and said, “Except for Ms. Azaranna and Mr. Incognito, you have all been condemned to death. However, the Magistrate wishes to show a measure of mercy.”

“There is a dragon that resides in these woods. Said dragon has abducted the Magistrate’s adult child, Tailor. Should the dragon be slain, its horns returned as proof and Tailor rescued unharmed, all survivors are to be pardoned.”

“As a tribunal could not determine if Ms. Azaranna is a witch or not, she is to accompany you. If the dragon attempts to befriend her, she is to be considered a witch and to be executed. If the dragon attempts to abduct her, she is not a witch and is free to go.”

The prisoners mulled this over amongst themselves before one of them asked, “What about the dandy? What’s his punishment?”

The captain smiled and said, “Mr. Incognito has volunteered to assist in the rescue of Tailor.”

The prisoners and guards all busted out laughing at this, as it drew a slight frown on Incognito’s face.

“In order to have a reasonable chance at success, the Magistrate has authorized me to provide you with tools and supplies to aid in this quest,” the captain said after the laughter subsided. “They are contained, with your personal effects, in the crates on the side of the road.”

The captain gave a curt nod to the guards before saying, “Oh, by the way, this dragon happens to like cattle but doesn’t care for horses.” He then drew his sword and slashed the ox on its rump and then dashed to the wagons before speeding off.

The ox bellowed in agony at being slashed as blood started pouring down its leg. The prisoners stood eying the ox as the captain ran off.

“That was a foolish thing for the captain to do. Doesn’t he know that will likely bring the dragon here?” Incognito said.

This sent most of the prisoners scurrying up the slight incline to the road to find that the wagons were now several hundred yards away. They immediately turned their attention to the supplies to find all the crates nails shut and no tools to open them.

While the prisoners were struggling with the crates, Azaranna, Incognito, the dwarf and the prisoner in the loincloth at the edge of the woods near the wounded ox. The dwarf looked at Azaranna. “Bloody rude of them to run off and leave you shackled and gagged like that.” He then took another long drink from his horn, not showing any interest in helping her.

Seeing that the dwarf would not help Azaranna, and Incognito was busy watching the other prisoners fight with the crates, the man in the loincloth stepped over to Azaranna and removed her gag. “Thanks,” she said when it was finally off. “I was about to choke on that thing. Now if we can just figure…”

She didn’t complete her sentence as the man pried her shackles open, freeing her. He then attempted to throw the shackles over his shoulder, but got them hung on the ram's horn of his helmet.

Wide eyed, she said, “Thank you, I’m Azaranna. And you are?”

“Ugh,” the man said.

“Ugh? Are you alright? Can’t you speak?”

He said “Ugh,” again, shaking his head.

Looking at the other two people by the forest, she said, “Is there something wrong with him?”

The dwarf stopped drinking long enough to say, “Don’t know. I could have been drunk at the time, but I don’t think he said anything while we were in jail other than ‘ugh.’” He then took another drink.

“Don’t look at me. I like to moderate my dealings with witches and barbarians,” Incognito said.

Azaranna put her hands on her hips and glared at Incognito. “‘Moderate?’ In what way?”

The blood ran from Incognito’s face when she looked at him. He swallowed hard and said, “K… Keep to a minimum. Av… Avoid if possible. I’ve heard you are a finicky lot and I don’t want to risk offending you.”

“Bah,” Azaranna said, waving her hand at him. “So, let’s see if I can figure out your name. I won’t use any magic. Is it Lif? Yok? Tom? John?”

She tried a dozen names after each one, the barbarian would shake his head and say, “Ugh.”

“I give up. I guess I’ll have to call you ‘Ugh,’ until I figure it out.”

At the mention of the word ‘Ugh,’ the barbarian nodded his head and pointed his finger at himself as he said, “Ugh.”

“So either your name is ‘Ugh,’ or you want to be called ‘Ugh.’” Azaranna put her palm up to her face. “O.K. lets go and see what those cretins left us.” She then turned and went back to the road, followed by the other three.

The other prisoners were still fighting to get the crates open, but had made no progress. Two of them were trying to bash them open using rocks, but they were doing better chewing up their hands than actually opening the crates.

After seeing the futile attempts to open the crates, Ugh strode over to one of them. After squeezing in, he used his fingernails to pry the lid of the crate up slightly. Then he worked his fingers underneath and began lifting the lid up. With a groan of protest, the nails slowly released their grasp leaving the first crate opened.

Inside they found six spears with warped shafts and tips that looked like they had never seen a sharpening stone. Several prisoners pushed their way in, shoving Ugh to the side to get to the spears.

“Ugh,” he said in protest.

The dwarf let out a loud belch. “Lousy lot that is. I don’t think you could stab butter with those things, much less a dragon’s hide.”

The ones who had grabbed the spears now looked at the tips and saw the rust and rolled over edges. While they were examining the spears, Ugh opened the second crate, which also contained six spears in the same condition as the first.

“Hey, dwarf. You can fix these spears and make them magical,” one prisoner said.

“Nope,” the dwarf said as he took another drink.

“No? You’re a dwarf. Aren’t you supposed to be able to make magic weapons?”

“Nope.” The dwarf belched again. “No coal, no forge, no sharpening stone. Besides, you need a dwarf who works steel. I never learned to work steel, only iron.” He took another drink.

The prisoner looked at the dwarf wide eyed. “What do you mean you never learned to work steel?”

The dwarf nodded his head to one side as he said, “Just that. I never learned to work steel. Didn’t get that far as a smith. My teacher said I drank too much to learn. I think he was peeved that I drank the entire class under the table. Or was it because he caught me with his daughter? Wife maybe? It’s all a little fuzzy.”

The prisoners groaned hearing this and now knowing they would have to make do with their wits and what weapons they had.

Finally, Ugh opened the third crate. This one contained the personal effects of the prisoners. Azaranna reached in and grabbed a whip that was sitting on top along with a satchel. “Good, they left me my herb pouch.”

“Who untied you?” another prisoner protested seeing Azaranna reclaiming her possessions.

“Ugh was nice enough to.”

The prisoner grabbed Ugh, who had just pulled a six inch stick out of the crate and stuck it in his loincloth, by the arm and roughly spun him around saying, “Why did you do a stupid thing like that, you ape headed moron?”

In response, Ugh used two fingers to grab the man by the nostrils. Then lifted him up, turned him over before slamming him down on the ground with a solid thud. After slamming the man down, Ugh then removed his fingers from the man’s nostrils and wiped them on the man’s shirt. “Ugh,” Ugh said with a glare in his eyes.

After the other prisoners saw what had happened, they immediately started gathering around Ugh, brandishing their spears. In response, Ugh pulled out his stick and held it between his thumb and forefinger as he waved it menacingly at the others.

Everyone immediately jumped back when they heard a deafening thunderclap a few feet away. When everyone looked to see what caused the sound, they saw Azaranna standing there, her whip in hand, now covered in nasty looking thorns. Her hair fluttering as if it was being blown, only there was no breeze.

“Back off him, or I’ll flay your,” she started to say bitterly before she seemed to stutter on the next word. “Clothes off you,” she finished in a more apologetic tone.

This brought a few raised eyebrows as the men started lowering their spears. Ugh put his stick back in his loincloth as the men were no longer threatening him. “Well, at least we know for certain she’s a witch,” one man said.

Another said, “Maybe we should make her a broom so she can fly and locate that dragon.”

“Make her a broom? She’d fly away, you fool.”

“Besides you fool, I can’t ride a broom. Do I look like a house witch or a hedge witch to you?” Azaranna said.

This set off a murmur amongst the men, as they discussed Azaranna not being able to fly. After much discussion amongst themselves, one man asked, “If you’re not a witch, then how can you do magic?”

Azaranna rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “I didn’t say I wasn’t a witch. I said I’m not a house witch or hedge witch. They are the ones who ride brooms.”

“Then what are you?”

“You could say I’m a dark witch. I’m not opposed to helping people, for a price, but get on my bad side, I’ll.” Azaranna’s face contorted as she tried to say something before finally saying in a different voice, “Have you over for dinner.”

She then shook her head and said under her breath, “Will you stop that?”

Again, the men murmured amongst themselves. While they were talking the dwarf went over to the crate that had contained their personal effects and pulled out a black smithing hammer, saying, “That’s right, it was his wife and his sister!”

Everyone turned to look at the dwarf over this revelation. As a response, he simply took another drink.

Afterwards, one man asked, “Then how do you get around?”

Signing, Azaranna said, “You really know nothing about witches do you? Mostly by walking, though we can ride horses. Provided I get my license, I can drive a cauldron in six-months.”

The men started looking at each other. “Drive a cauldron? Like Baba Yaga?”

“Just like her. As I understand it, she was a fiend at the cauldron races,” Azaranna said, nodding her head.

“Excuse me. I hate to interrupt this discussion,” Incognito said. “But won’t the dragon be coming for the ox? I mean, shouldn’t we be making some plan or preparing for it?”

Ugh said, “Ugh,” and shook his head.

“The pretty boy is right,” the dwarf said. “Want to find its den or nest. Don’t want to try to fight it in the open.”

Closing his eyes, and with a flair of his hand, Incognito said, “It is Mr. Incognito to you. And what is your name, Sir dwarf?”

The dwarf looked around, as if trying to remember something. “Can’t remember. Let me get back to you on that one, fancy-pants.”

As the group started to make for the forest, one prisoner said, “Shouldn’t we help number twelve up?”

“The one that the barbarian nose slammed? I thought that was number seven,” said another prisoner.

Another prisoner shook his head. “No. I’m number seven. I swapped roles with number twelve. He wanted the hazard pay for this scene and now I get to yell ‘charge’ when we find the dragon.”

Several of the prisoners nodded in agreement at this as a couple went to help number twelve up. As most of the group was entering the forest, Azaranna put both hands to her face and whispered to herself, “We’re doomed Maroth. A dandy who I bet fears his own shadow, a dwarf who is so drunk he can’t remember anything, twelve prisoners who don’t even rate names or descriptions, and me being possessed by an angel. Besides us, the barbarian is the only one who seems to be capable, but has a vocabulary of just one word.”

In a slightly masculine, but soothing voice, she said, “I know. But there is some hope. We both have multi-issue deals. Maybe something else will come along before the author is done with us.”

“Yes, but this issue is almost over and the next one constitutes ‘multi,’” she said in her normal voice.

She then felt a hand on her shoulder followed by a comforting squeeze. When she looked to see whose hand it was, she saw Ugh standing beside her.

The audio version of "The Chaos of Me." 

Thirty-one poems written and read by me 

Readers have called it “powerful,” “moving,” and “intense.”