***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
This tale began here, in the Red Lion Tavern


The landscape changed as the two paddled onward. Upriver was so bloody hard, fighting both the current and time to travel to their first destination. The effort spent now would be worth it, though, for the rest would be sailing downriver- much easier. Terikel even brought a fishing pole.

That grabbed EoJ’s attention.

“Say, can I borrow that rod for a moment?” he asked sweetly.

“Paddle, blast you,” Terikel replied. “This is work enough without dragging a line behind us.”

“Actually, mate, I was thinking of landing a hook on yon traveler,” he said, pointing to a tattooed warrior riding a horse. “I’ll hook his saddle, and he can pull us upriver. Neither one of us has to paddle.”

“Brilliant!” roared the angel. “Hail and wassail, buckaroo with the tattoo, wouldst thou care to lend a hand?”

The mounted man turned and laughed. It was a loud cackle that bubbled forth from far down in his gut. Never before had he seen two angels stuck in a boat, each too stupid or forgetful to use the wings on their back as sails.

“I do believe he is laughing at us,” EoJ replied. “How rude.”

When he heard why the man was laughing, he too grinned. As did the other angel.

“While we are all smoking and joking, could you help us out, buddy? Heading upstream is hard. Your horsey won’t mind the extra effort, will he?”

“What do I get for it?”

“Ah, a Celtic merchant,” Terikel said with a grin. He flexed his wings. “We see this from the way his laughter and words bubble forth as if from a mountain spring. How about a trade- a wee bit of help for a wee little rhyme, Bubbles me boy?”

“Pretani, actually. Sure, a ride for a rhyme. I’m in.” His face belied the words; he had no intention of making that trade. Now if there was gold involved....

“Double Bubble’s Toils and Troubles,” spoke the impudent angel with a widening leer across his face.

The horse suddenly groaned, and the man’s fine leather jerkin broke two seams. His sword became rusted into its scabbard, and to top it off, it began raining, but only over the unfortunate merchant.

“Enough,” the merchant replied. The rain ceased, and all became as it was. Almost. “I will help you, but the horse cannot bear the strain of your weight.”

“Give him wings,” EoJ whispered. “A flying horse, no problem. We’ll be there in no time.”

But the Old One did not hear the entire quote. He heard only the first few words before he was working up another spell. Seconds later the man’s jerkin split totally, and tiny wings erupted from his shoulder blades.

”There,” said the angel proudly, dusting non-existent dust from his hands as he surveyed his handiwork. Then he grinned lasciviously. “Now thou canst help him.”

The Pretani scowled. He was in a bind now, and saw no way to exit, though he did struggle. At last he acknowledged defeat, and did as he was bidden. Soon the canoe was cruising easily upstream, with the new cherub Edorix helping out with the labor.

Colonnaded houses began to dot the landscape. Terikel looked up from his scroll and elbowed EoJ who was quietly fishing for Clock Trout- a riverine delicacy. Both saw the buildings and knew it was time. They guided the canoe to the bank, and released the unfortunate Edorix from the spell binding him to service. To their surprise, the wings refused to meld back into his body.

“It appears that we are stuck with this newest colleague,” Terikel said with an embarrassed grin.

“You are stuck with him,” EoJ retorted blatantly. “You made him, you care for him. Its in the rules.”

“Mayst I enquire as to the reason for my abduction and the granting of these little wings. I love the glow, though. A real chick-magnet, one would think.”

“A what?” asked EoJ in surprise, while Terikel snickered and tried to bury a laugh. He failed.

“We were given a task, to prepare a presentation of sorts,” the angel replied. He pulled forth a scroll from a case in his belt.. “Inside this are etched awards and honors. We were told to-”

“-Ordered to-” EoJ corrected.

“Ordered to survey the heavens and discern from our observations and interactions a worthy presentation. A very special presentation, or else,” Terikel completed.

“I know most everybody in these lands,” Edorix replied proudly. “I greet each one as they enter. Let me see thy list.”

Terikel gave him the short version.

“Drusus, Aristotle, Pharaoh’s Ambassador... Hmmm, I know plenty who can fill this list.”

“We also need a presentation,” EoJ added. “Do you know a sage or some other wise man who can provide us with tales of old upon which to base our presentation?”

Edorix grinned. “I can do better than that. I can write pretty well myself- I was named the Champion of the Sepia Joust III.”

“All is good,” said Terikel with a smile. “Thou shall begin with thy dreaming and scribbling down thy nocturnal visions. We, for our part, shall peruse the runes of the latest Heavenly Digest, seeking inspiration and other such intangible values.”

“Oh no you don’t,” said the impish cherub. “I shall not so all the work while you two screw off and play. Come along, angels. You have power, I have words. Together we make this work.”

“Thou does have it right, Edorix,” Terikel grinned maliciously. “We have power. Get to work.”

“He means we must use our power to help him write, or we are toast,” EoJ explained. “And I agree. And you, Terikel, shall do most of the work.”

“Us?” cried the angel. ”But we are the lazy one. Old bones, arthritis, rheumatism, and all that.”

“You put up six articles, five parts of a very long and interesting tale, entered both Sepia Jousts this year- winning one- and went absolutely apeshit in the Basilica whipping ass. The only one putting up more articles than you is Edorix here, with eight. You are far from lazy.”

“Mayhap doing all that made us tired and worn. We old people need our naps, as thou does well know.”

“Come off it,” EoJ moaned. “You are older, but far from old. Get cracking.”

Terikel sighed and reluctantly nodded. “Okay, let us travel hither to yon burg and see what we can find.”

“There lies Rome,” Edorix announced. “The soldiers are drilling out on the field outside, while the women line the walls to watch while sipping wine.”

“Wine and women?” said the old angel, suddenly sitting upright, alive and alert. “Why did you not say so?”

And before the other two could blink, the angel stretched his wings and flew off into the sky- in the direction of Rome. EoJ and Edorix shrugged and followed.

EoJ was smart enough to fold up the canoe and put it in his pocket. They might need it once they pried the amphora out of the Old One’s grip and wrestled the females away from him before their fathers returned from the field bearing swords.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

“Where did Terikel go?”

“Last seen he was flying above the Aventine, doing his Holy Ghost routine,” replied EoJ. “He’s looking for noblewomen to console.”

When he saw the Pretanic cherub’s surprised look, he explained, ”Most Roman noblemen married late, to young women. Then they go off to war, leaving the bride home alone. So very alone. So he consoles them.”

“Married women?” replied Edorix with a gasp. How utterly barbaric!

EoJ turned on him sharply. “And widows. Have you never noticed the generals producing heirs while they are out fighting in Gaul, or Dacia, and their wives are in Rome, or Arretium, or Tarentum, or Capua? Their noble parts are not that long, I assure you. Which means somebody else has sired the brat. Only a true angel can swoop in, seduce a lonely woman, and fly off into the night with neither her feeling remorse or her man feeling jealous.”

“Do you do that, too?” asked the cherub, a bit of red now coloring his cheeks. It seemed wings had their perks after all.

“Only Terikel does that, the randy fool,” EoJ replied. Then he just grinned and winked. “Why do you think he is so tired all the time? Do you know how many Rome:Total War worlds are out there, and how many worlds he must visit in a day?”

He declined to mention the fact that he performed the very same task in the Medieval Era. All those princesses... It is not for nothing that the gods made that trait concerning Princesses no longer being suitable. But a freshly-made cherub does not need to know this.

“Well, it looks like the Senate is in session today,” Edorix replied, while his mind processed the sums. An average of seventeen family members per faction, sixteen of which are outside the capital city at any given time, thirty factions per world, over an estimated four point five million active worlds... Terikel was indeed a very busy boy. No wonder he looked so good for a creature seven hundred and six years of age! “Let us go see what is going on in the Forum Romanum.”

The angel handed him a cloak. “Put this on,” he said. “It covers your wings and dims your glow, so that we appear like them. A disguise, of sorts.”

The two entered the town. It was market day, so the streets were thronging with crowds. The two shouldered past the press, to arrive in the magnificent Forum of Rome. It was also judgment day- there was a trial going on. It seemed that someone had tried to make themselves Consul for Life, against the rules, and was being tried for sedition.

“Who would want to be consul for life?” asked Edorix. “Do they even realize how much work that would be? You would need the likes of me to get anything done, and the likes of Terikel to keep your family tree growing, and the likes of you to keep everyone else amused.”

“Let’s ask that bloke over there,” EoJ replied. Secretly he smiled at the compliment, but dared not let the impish cherub notice.

“’Ello,” said EoJ in greeting.

“Ave,” replied the bystander. He quickly averted his gaze and returned to watching the action of the trial.

“Say, Pitt,” EoJ continued. “What exactly is going on here?”

Pitt did not even turn his face. He merely spoke to the disguised angel out of the corner of his mouth. “Nothing special. Vampiric Cannibal and Liamidas over there decided to let their horse run for consul- which is not disallowed- on the premise that the term be for life. They want the horse to be King of Rome- and being King is against the law. GeneralKickAss is the Advocate assigned to defend him, but he took the title, left an odd note, and disappeared. Tribunes of the Plebs Punic Hoplite and J Ursus Cato took over to the defense. They claim their clients are crazy, nutters from the Looney bin. Almost everybody who knows them agrees they are the craziest ones in Rome. But it is up to the judge.”

“And who is presiding?”

“Today’s iudex is Awesomated88- a nicer fellow you cannot find.”

EoJ and Edorix looked to Awesomated88 and smiled. It looks like those crazy fellows were in good hands.

That’s when they noticed the opposing counsel. The man was dressed crazily, with a hat upon his head that was very long, and his eyes were decorated as a woman’s. He was decked out in Egyptian garb and standing across from them.

“Oh no, VC and Liamidas are doomed,” whispered Edorix. “Their Advocate, GeneralKickAss, is also the prosecutor! No wonder he took the title of Advocate then disappeared! Worse, he was chosen the funniest man in the city. Romans- even Awesomated- love comedy. The jury will convict based on the laugh-o-meter results.”

“VC and Liamidas are is crazy, but not harmful or malicious,” EoJ said. “We need help.”

“Who are you going to call?” asked Edorix.

“Ghostbusters?” replied Pitt facetiously.

“No. We find Terikel,” replied the angel. “It seems strange, but his scribblings earned him the prize for best advice in town-the Victoria Award.”

Edorix reluctantly admitted that was true. Terikel was renowned throughout the city for writing the award-winning advice columns in the Daily Roman.

“We will need more than advice,” Edorix added as the crowd burst into gales of laughter at a crack by GKA, the Pharaoh’s Ambassador. “We need the best.”

“Then you need Gaius Marius and Octavian,” Pitt said, chiming in with his wisdom. It was easy to see now how he had earned the title of Aristotle. “They are the best- oldie and newbie. Between the two, they can do most anything.”

“Let’s go find them,” EoJ agreed. He and Edorix started to move off, but Pitt broke away from the crowd to follow them.

“You’ll need me,” he said, joining the group. Another gale of laughter ripped through the crowd. “And you need to stop that trial, EoJ. It will be over before we can get help.”

“You recognized me?” the angel said, shocked that his veil was so readily pierced.

“Of course,” replied Pitt. “I was not the Most Intelligent for nothing, you know. And I work for you in that other place, in case playing with the Banhammer had damaged your cerebral cortex.”

“He’s right,” Edorix admitted as a third wave of laughter drowned out the conversation.

“More magic time,” EoJ sighed. He lifted a small wand from under his cloak. He pointed it toward the sky, and raindrops the size of golf-balls poured down from above. The crowd fled the sudden downpour, as did both advocates and the iudices. Only VC and Liamidas remained, dancing in the summer rain.

“Trial delayed.”

“Where did you get that?” asked Edorix in wonder.

“From Mythic Commodore,” replied EoJ smugly. “The best modder in the heavens. He can make almost anything.”

A few minutes later, at the home of Gaius Marius, the three found several men gathered to discuss the ongoing trial. They were not happy. Being soaked to the bone did not help any either. Togas are so heavy when they are wet.

“Malarkey,” said Gaius Marius, to some unknown comment. “The men are obviously insane. You cannot try a man with a defective cranial content.”

“That could have been me out there, being prosecuted by GeneralKickAss,” Liamidas said. “Had I not shaped up so smartly, I would have ended up in the gutter, or on trial.”

“But you did shape up,” Gaius said to his Sulla. “And you were still out there for trying to make a horse a king.”

“I did not need to shape up,” GeneralKickAss said. He was the best newcomer in the city. “I was born good at this.”

“Good yes. Modest, no,” laughed GeneralKickAss. He was also admired by the small group for being the one most likely to be promoted, which among other things led to him being called Evocatus. “It still does not solve our dilemma. How do we save Liamidas and VC from the evil clutches of myself?”

“Funny, yes. Evil, no,” corrected Octavian. “You are just doing your job.”

“Great stuff, guys,” said the last man of the group, scribbling furiously. “Keep it up.”

“Who is he?” asked Edorix. “I know most in this city, but this man escapes me.”

“A journalist for the Daily Roman,” said Gaius, “He won the Livy Award recently. I think his name is Skippy or some such.”

“Scipii,” said the historian.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“Ah,” sighed Edorix. “I have heard of him. He is a great historian.”

The other three looked the newcomers up and down, trying to puzzle how they entered this well-guarded abode. The Militia Hoplite standing guard shrugged at the suggestion that he had failed in his guard duties.

“Did you let these interlopers in, Punic Hoplite?” Gaius asked. When the guard shook his head, Gaius was perturbed. How did they get in?

Edorix shook off the magic cloak EoJ had given him. The stubby wings answered the question. Magic. To which he added, “We want to rescue VC and Liamidas as much as you do. They may be crazy, but they are harmless.”

Pitt took in the small crowd while the discussions raged. Being intelligent, he saw immediately a plan. This he proposed to the others, who readily agreed. It was time for action.

The next morning would never be the same. The crowds had gathered again, this time looking anxiously toward the heavens. There was not a cloud in the sky, no spot of white marring that pastel blue. The augurs took the omens (not Jax Omen) and proclaimed the auspices as good.

“Is your little wand ready?” Edorix asked of EoJ, who grinned and held up the stick.

“Let’s do it,” he said. And the two heavenly beings entered the Forum.

The crowd was packed tightly. Everyone was expecting GKA to continue his comic routine. It was to be a joyous lynching, almost as much fun as when Cicero and Catiline were going at it. A few heads turned nervously toward the sky, but otherwise all attention was on GeneralKickAss out to convict the two horse-loving fools.

EoJ pointed his little stick towards the heavens. He grasped it tightly as Mythic Commodore had told him to, and spoke the command word to activate it.

“Abra cadabra.”

Nothing happened.

EoJ looked at the blasted twig and again spoke the words. “Abra cadabra.” He turned to Edorix with a stricken look. “It’s not working!”

“Try Hocus Pocus,” Edorix suggested. That was the other magical phrase he knew. EoJ tried it, then all possible combinations. “Hocus cadabra, Abra capocus.” Nothing worked. Liamidas and VC were doomed.

A pair of senators watching the scene from the Curia Hostilia, noticed the movement. They were clever men, those Senators, and very mature. So mature were they, that they were even named that by their colleagues. Gaius and Shieldwall, they would say, you two are so mature. Being mature, (and wondering why they were in this tale if they were indeed so mature), the Senators pointed away from the spectacle before him and also away from the two heavenly beings. They pointed to the Capitoline Hill, to the roof of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, where one could see a figure perched on the roof.

“Look!” the senators cried. “Our long-lost and most loved SubRosa has returned!”

The crowd gaped at the figure. Though the distance was great, none would later recall having any doubt that the figure standing there, august and serene, was indeed that of the long-lost and much-missed SubRosa, returned from afar.

So great was the love the crowd had for SubRosa, and so in awe at the return, that they did not notice the two angels elbowing their way forward and drag VC and Liamdias kicking and screaming away from the trial.

Awesomated88 did notice, but he was too nice to say anything about it anyway. He did not even want to have the ridiculous trial, much less run the thing. But others, malicious others, saw it and raised an alarm.

“We are in some shit now,” EoJ mumbled. They broke free of the crowd and ran toward the Cloaca Maxima, the Great Sewer, that emptied into the Tiber. They were slowed by Caligula, struggling madly and wailing that his horse was not taken with him, and raising quite the fuss. EoJ managed to get the canoe out, but unfolding it on the run while gripping the crazy one was too much for him. One or the other must go.

“Look! Behold! Cast thine eyes that-a-way!” cried Edorix suddenly, in a voice fraught with looming danger. “An army approaches! Led by Hannibal Barca! Flee, Romans! Flee!”

The crowd stopped dead in their tracks as they took in the spectacle of elephants and Numidians and all sorts of Carthaginian warriors lining the hill behind the Campus Martius. Before the army was Punic Hoplite- though everyone who gazed upon him saw only Hannibal Barca, the Bane of Rome.

The crowd pressed forward though, despite the enemy at the gates as the armored legionaries began spilling forth from the tents where they had so recently been training. A battle was brewing, and Rome was the prize. And two angels and two lunatics were trapped in the middle.

A rustle of wings, a firm grip, and EoJ and Edorix were lifted aloft, out of harm’s way.

“Not bad, old boy,” EoJ said to Terikel as the angel set the two cherubs down safely. “I had forgotten that these wings actually work.”

“The Carthaginians!” Edorix shouted. “And SubRosa!”

EoJ laughed. “What Carthaginians?”

Edorix looked about a second time and cursed. The figure on the roof was gone, and the hills barren of hostile troops. It had all been an illusion, a phantasm borne of a deranged fantasy.

“Angel magic,” Terikel said with a wink. “Tis useful for many and varied things. Thou shalt learn it someday too, we expect. Have ye acquired that which we need?”

“Most of it,” EoJ replied. “Abra capocus!”

Terikel took the little stick from his comrade and pulled the little silver safety cap off the end before giving it back. “Try it now.”

“Abra cadabra,” whispered EoJ, and a light rain fell across the city. It was a cleansing rain, which would wash away the charges and trial of VC and Liamidas so they could safely return to being the resident nutters. Everyone was happy.

“Done here,” said EoJ. The wand was away and the canoe out and unfolded. He was already climbing in. “You guys coming?”

“What about my horse?” asked Edorix.

“Why ride when you can fly, cherub?” asked EoJ.

“Or fly when you can sail?” added Terikel. “Consider it the price of wings.”

Edorix thought that a good trade. He climbed into the boat.

“Where to next, fellows?”

“Row, row, row the boat, down the River of Time,” EoJ sang. It was awful singing, but it made them happy anyway. “Down the River of Time, to Pantomime... No, seriously, we will see when we get there.”

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Rome is left behind, but the tale continues here. .

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

[This message has been edited by Terikel Grayhair (edited 01-07-2011 @ 11:15 AM).]