Neverquest – Part 121

Characters: Lord Dartemus

Location: The royal bathtub

Time: Day 5 – Early morning, before dawn

“Are you sure your Men can do this?” Dartemus asked.

“Give ‘em some faith, boy. We’ve been specially trained to handle this.”

“You mean specially tortured.”

“Call it what you want. Just know that they’re damn good at it.”

Dartemus folded his arms across his chest and nodded. He and the old ‘wise’ Man of the island, as the natives called him, were standing atop the bucket on the beach. From there, they could look out over the vast and frothy sea of the bathtub, but their eyes were focused on one spot in particular. There, treading wildly amongst the bubbles and the foam, they watched as the natives dove down for minutes at a time and surfaced with one of the silver rings from the bottom. It took two—sometimes three—Men to carry the heavy ring to the surface and at least a couple more to pull it to shore, but soon they had a pile of dozen or so resting in the sand.

“This does seem to be the kind of sick, convoluted game Isabella would create,” Dartemus said. “Throwing rings to the bottom of the water and forcing you to retrieve them.”

“Aye, boy. Aye. But she ain’t the first Women to do this. Back when I was a wee lad like you, this was how Women used to train Men to be pearl divers.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to cast an underwater breathing spell?” But they both knew the darker answer to that question.

It didn’t matter.

“A-yup… You see, boy, times have changed since then. Women have found other uses for our kind. But I’ll tell you what I tell the children. Lookie at the jewelry of the royal Women sometimes. Pearls, diamonds, rubies—all of them, chances are, were mined or fished by one of our brethren. And you can bet they probably died getting it. If not, the next rock probably got ‘em.” He nodded grimly and his hoary eyes seemed to glaze over in a troubled past. “When I see a pearl necklace hanging from Isabella’s neck, boy, it’s like looking into a circle of graves, and each pearl is another Man’s life wasted, destroyed.”

“…I had no idea.”

“That’s the last of ‘em!” one of the Men yelled from the shore.

The old Man nodded. “Looks like we’ll get to see if your crazy idea works after all, boy.”

“It should,” Dartemus said. “All we have to do is load the bucket full of rings, which should create enough weight towards the bottom of the bucket to keep it buoyant once we push it back into the water. Then, we can ride the bucket towards the hole that was made in the doorway. And by positioning the bucket’s handle upward, I and a few of your strongest Men will be able to climb out, applying extra pressure to the handle once we’re through the hole, which should be enough to force the bucket up and out the hole if the Men remaining inside throw the rings overboard. The bucket should give us a softer padding of landing than if we were to jump down, and it will also provide cover in case any other Women show up.”

“You make it sound so easy, boy.”

And it really wasn’t too difficult. Once the rings were on shore, it was only a matter of dragging them through the sand and tossing them into the bucket. By the time they had used up all the rings, the bucket had shifted far enough down shore that they could easily push it into the water. Like expected, the weight from the rings, in combination with the loft from the foam and bubbles, was enough to keep the bucket tilted above the water’s surface. Then, the Men gathered around the rim and were able to paddle through the froth and towards the glass doorway.

“You’re a genius, boy!” the old Man laughed as water sprayed his face.

Dartemus smiled, but only on the outside. Inside, he couldn’t feel the waves striking his brow. He could only see the dark future that lay for his kind.

“Hoist the anchor!” the old Man cried out, pointing to the two hefty Men on either side of the bucket. They nodded and climbed up to the bucket’s handle. There, they waited for the bucket to get as close to the shattered doorway as possible, when they finally flipped the handle towards the ceiling. It rattled against the glass.

“Now, hold ‘er steady!”

A few of the Men dropped to the bottom of the bucket and began shuffling around the rings to keep the bucket in place. Dartemus nodded to the old Man and began scaling the handle behind the two hefty Men, who were halfway to the top. Below him, the sea raged on.

“We’ll have to break through some more of the glass,” Dartemus said to the Men. “The hole isn’t big enough.”

“Looks big ‘nuff to me,” one of them said.

“No. We want two central points of pressure—one on each side of the handle. Then we’ll be able to put all our weight in the center, which will force the bucket out of the water.” He cupped his hands over his mouth and looked back down in the bucket. “Tell your Men to start unloading the rings!”

Then he turned back to the hefty Men and they began chipping through the glass with their bare hands. In a few minutes—about as long as it took to heave the last ring overboard—they had created a small valley or divot in the glass that looked a little like two steep mountains standing side by side. With the handle resting against the sides of the mountains, they daringly climbed outside of the glass and hung above Isabella’s bathroom.

“Even with the Men inside,” Dartemus said, “we should be able to overcome the pressure of the bucket. All we have to do is push hard.”

“That we can do,” one of the Men grunted, flexing his fingers around the handle. The other did the same.

“On my count. One…two…three!”

They threw their weight downwards. The handle bent, the bucket began to slide out of the water, and then the force was gone. The bucket splashed back down.

“Again!” Dartemus cried.

This time, the Men in the bucket cheered them on, but they were quickly drenched as the bucket crashed down again.

“We’re filling with water!” the old Man cried. “We won’t make it.”

One of the Men in the bucket shook the water off him and stood up. “Come on! We gotta help them.”

Five of the Men went with him and soon they had more people outside the bucket than in.

“Give this everything you got!” Dartemus shouted. “For Penee!”

“For Penee!”

Their voices echoed. Their veins burst. Their weight came down together, like bricks falling from a skyscraper, and with a mighty plot, the bucket was thrown from the water. The old Man cheered. Then he screamed as the bucket began to flip. So did the rest of the Men inside.

And so did the Men on the handle as the entire bucket flew over their heads. It spiraled through the air, carrying them with it, and bounced against the floor at least twice before finally coming to a stop.

The Men spilled from the bucket, rubbing their heads.

“We did it…” one of them said, the first to collect his thoughts. He stood up and felt the ground under his feet. “We escaped that wretched island! We escaped that wretched witch!”

“Praise our ancestors!” the old Man cried, dropping to his knees and kissing the floor. Then he realized Isabella’s bare feet touched that same floor every day and he spit out the foul taste.

The rest of the Men hugged each other or cheered or looked around at the new world that lay before them. Only Dartemus remained in the bucket, folded up against the side, silently looking out over his people.

The old Man was the first to notice him and quickly limped over. “Despite my doubts, boy, you saved us! You are one hell of a Man.”

“We’re not saved yet,” Dartemus said softly.

“Why, sure we are! Isabella got taken away by some disgruntled citizens, we escaped the island of torture, and all that’s left to do is return to Penee.”

“…You’ve been away for too long, old man. Penee is a long, long march from here. On foot, it will take us at least two days, and that’s if we don’t sleep. Oh, and need I remind you that we’re in Women territory? Felwinter, to be exact. The capital of Women territory.”

“Aye… But don’t tell the boys. Look how happy they are.”

Dartemus looked over the old Man’s shoulder, where the natives were smacking their bellies in some strange victory dance. “…They should know what’s at stake. This won’t be an easy journey home. And we still have to get out of this castle if we hope to see the waving banners of Penee again.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard. My old bones are telling me that it’s still nighttime. The Women should all be asleep.”

“Good. Then we’ll have to work fast.” He stood.

“Wait, boy!”

“What?”

“What kind of commander are you anyway? Back in my days, commanders always gave names to their battalions.”

“Names? Battalions?”

“Yeah. What we accomplished today… We are soldiers. You are our commander. We need a name to distinguish ourselves, to return to Penee with, to stand proudly for the kingdom we have.”

Dartemus rubbed his beard. He turned away from the Men and ran his hand down the side of the bucket. “A name, huh…?”

“Yes, a name.”

“Alright. From this day forth, we will be known as… The Bucket Brigade.”