C37
-oOo-
The Mage rolled his eyes and sighed when another knock drew him away from his meal. Standing, he threw his napkin down onto his plate and picked up a half full glass of wine, pausing before taking a drink.
"Who is it?"
A male voice again sounded through the door.
"The Medic Your Supremeness. May we let her pass?"
Red wine spluttered from the Mage's lips back into the glass.
"Yes, yes, you fool. Obviously! Let her in."
Charlie watched as the door opened to admit the medic, her attention drawn to the two guards on door duty where previously there had been none.
"Well? Where's the patient? Eh?"
A very elderly woman squinted up at the Mage, over her shoulder there hung a bulging leather sack, very nearly half her size.
The Mage pointed to the day bed.
"I would appreciate you addressing me by my title Medic."
The woman waved him off in a way that suggested long standing familiarity.
"Too much of a mouthful. What's been happening here? Oh, hello ladies. Would one of you be so kind as to act as my assistant?"
The Mage followed the woman across to Dean. Out of pure pettiness, despite Charlie's pleading look, he beckoned Dorothy over, releasing the spell holding her down in the chair.
-o-
Merrick watched in interest whilst Sam knelt down, probing at an unevenly shaped flat slab of rock partially embedded in the path.
"Clever tactic really, do you not think so Sam? I have no doubt that the majority of people would look to their side, and never consider looking down to see if the entrance lie beneath their feet."
"Yeah, clever...It's not here. However it opens, the mechanism isn't here."
Scanning around, Sam's gaze settled on the rock face. Merrick ran his own gaze over the area, at a loss as to what might constitute a trigger to opening a secret doorway. Sam, however, smiled to himself.
"Merrick, go to the very end of the path ... Now reach out, there's a crack in the rock with a striped pebble that looks to be wedged in it?"
"I see it."
"Just push the pebble inwards."
"Surely not?"
"Try it."
Sam grinned when the slab of rock slid out of sight to reveal a dark hole and a set of stone steps disappearing into the black. He whispered to himself under his breath.
"Yahtzee."
-o-
The medic stared down at Dean, noting the scratches and bruising to one side of his face.
"What name does my patient go by then?"
The Mage shrugged.
"I personally know him only as Thief."
"Funny thing to name a child. Right girl, I need his clothing out of the way, just his top half, wouldn't want to excite my old heart too much, eh?"
"Dean...His name's Dean."
The medic turned and smiled at Charlie.
"That's a much better name. On you go then. ... My dear girl! What are you trying to do there? Cut it girl, cut it. Tsk tsk. Here."
Dorothy stared at the sharp little knife the medic handed her, only to see it snatched out of her hand again by the Mage.
"Please. Allow me."
The Mage sliced Dean's tee apart and handed the knife back to the medic without a word before gazing haughtily down at Dorothy.
"Carry on."
Dean made no sound as Dorothy struggled to free his clothing from him.
-o-
For the next few minutes, the medic's wrinkled and efficient hands checked over the front of her patient, mentally cataloguing fresh bruises against older ones, noting old scars here and there, drumming her fingers against Dean's ribs and running her hands down his arms and legs before she and Dorothy began to roll the patient over. Charlie strained against the spell holding her to her chair when she heard Dean's groan, Dorothy's Oh dear and the medic's Ah ha.
"What is it Dorothy? What's wrong?"
The old woman peered closely at her newly volunteered assistant.
"Dorothy is it? Would that be Dorothy Red at all, hmm? My troublesome nephew's bride-to-be? I assume that is indeed you. How lovely! You ill mannered man. Why didn't you introduce me to your betrothed straight away? You naughty boy! You're a very lucky man. She's both very pretty and young enough to have lots of babies for you. I give you both my blessing to marry...Not that you bothered asking for my consent, but I give it anyway...Now then. Our young thief here. Attempted to escape did he? He's been shot in the back. Some cack-handed buffoon of a soldier has yanked out the arrow, made it bleed more. Lucky it wasn't a broadhead, hmmm?"
Busily inspecting her patient's wound at close quarters, the medic didn't notice that the other occupants in the room, all except one bug eyed Munchkin, had become as still as waxwork dummies.
-o-
Standing together on a stone landing at the bottom of a first short flight of steps, Sam flicked on his lighter to look for a way to close the still open slab above the two men's heads. He grinned at Merrick. His Ozanian companion looked like he had entered into a state of hypnosis on each of the very few times he had witness the flame box being activated. Glancing around, there wasn't much for Sam to see, except rocky side walls, rocky ceiling and the start of the main stairway leading down off their rocky platform. What did catch his eye was a medievil style hand carried unlit torch. He reached over Merrick's head and unhooked the roughly made torch off the wall, smiling even more broadly when he felt the head of the torch, discovering the rope wick had only burnt down by a third. He quickly set light to the wick, about to flip the lid of his lighter closed, he glanced again at Merrick. Like a cat keeping a curious eye on a moth whilst deciding whether to bother chasing it or not, Merrick's eyes had never left the flickering lighter flame. Sam wondered what would happen if he moved the lighter from front to back over Merrick's head and beyond? Would Merrick, like a puppy, bend so far backwards in order to keep his eye on the flame, that he would suddenly find himself sitting on the floor being told what a good boy he was? Sam shook his head roughly, trying to get his wandering thoughts back in line, and instantly staggered as he suddenly felt very light headed. Merrick put out a hand to steady the younger man.
-o-
"Sam? What is it?"
"Nothin'. M' fine. Why do I sound like Dean? Sorry, just felt a bit dizzy is all. Help me to find the mechanism for closing the slab would you? It should be more obvious than the one above ground."
Merrick took a step sideways and pointed to the metal lever which had been behind him all the while.
"So, something like this then?"
Why's Merricksoundin' like Dean now? "Yeah. Just like that one."
Sam reached for the leaver, stopping short when the dizzy sensation hit again and he noticed somewhere along the way, he had also developed a headache.
"Please, allow me. I think you should sit for a moment Sam."
-o-
Grinlaff was way out of his depth. He wondered whether, if he asked ever so politely, the Magenta Mage would lock him back up in the tower again? Despite the magic holding him to the chair, Grinlaff still managed to bounce an inch up off his cushion in shock when the few seconds of silence and stillness was shattered by Dorothy's ear splitting screech of Whaaaat?
-o-
Dorothy was beside herself, beyond anger, beyond rage, she was in that place where even mage murder wouldn't be enough to satisfy her.
"You've told this woman that I'm goin' to...to...Crap! I can't even bring myself to say it. You've told her that I'm goin' to...Thingy you? I would never thingy you. I'd never thingy any man. But I'm especially not, never in a world over run with Unicorns, never ever, ever, thingying you!"
The medic turned briefly to look at the Mage, one eyebrow arched high. The Mage grimaced and shrugged.
"She er, she suffers terribly from pre-wedding nerves."
"So I see."
-o-
A stirring from her patient turned the medic's attention back to Dean.
"Hello there, back with us then? No! don't roll over. You have a wound on your back that I need to take care of."
"Wassat damnawful noise?"
"Lover's tiff. Ignore them. It's the easiest way."
It was actually hard to ignore the heated three way slanging match that was in full flow, so instead Dean listened in, focusing his attention onto it and taking his mind off the woman's ministrations. It didn't take him long to realise that one of the voices was Charlie's.
"You lay one scanky paw on her, pal, you're gonna be the first Eunuch in Oz; an' I'll be the one doin' the honours!"
Dean winced, both at Charlie's threat and at the first of the medic's stitches. That tugging on his skin though was instantly forgotten in the wake of a deep and powerful male voice.
"Enough! Guards!
The dramatic change to the Mage's usual fairly softly spoken, and irritatingly pleasant tone startled the two women into a momentary silence as the two guards promptly entered the study. The Mage swept his hand through the air, identifying the women and the terror stricken Munchkin.
"Take them all, and throw them down in the dungeons with the rest."
-o-
The guards strode across the room as the three prisoners felt a weight lift off them when the spell holding them in place lifted away. Charlie jumped to her feet, instantly looked around in a frantic search for any kind of weapon. One of the guards appeared right in front of her, disrupting her search. Looking down at her he smiled, shaking his head at her whilst drawing her attention to the slender and extremely sharp looking sword in his hand.
"Get them out of my sight."
The Mage watched the women being escorted out of the room, a miserable Grinlaff shuffling after them. Once again wearing his pleasant smile, the Mage gazed at Dorothy as she passed by.
"No more special treatment for a while. Maybe you should take this as an opportunity to slim down in readiness for your dress fitting Dorothy, my dear?"
"Why you...you..."
The study door closed on Dorothy's response.
-o-
"Now then, Auntie. How are we getting on over here? Oh, very neat! Well done...Hello again, um, Dean. I was so sorry to hear of your loss. Appalling tragedy...Might I offer you some refreshments?"
-oOo-