The replacement general, accompanied with several thousand men, greeted our hero, disguised as the distinguished gentleman, cordially. Our hero relayed all the army endured, what the enemy’s position and strengths were, and possible ways they could take the delta city. The replacement found the gentleman surprisingly pleasant to speak to, a great deal more intelligible, and open to other’s opinions; in short, displaying behavior unbecoming of a noble, but behavior propitious for an upstart like himself who sought to raise in status.
For this reason, the replacement poisoned our hero’s food; unfortunately, our hero could not finish the last course. He poisoned our hero’s wine; water was good enough for him. He even poisoned a bewitching woman’s genitals; but our hero had in mind only one woman.
With our hero’s advice, the army made it safely through the desert, past the river, and, unopposed, to the edge of the city, with all several thousand men intact. This was unfortunate, as the replacement sought to put some kind of deficiency or blame on our hero.
On the day the two armies were to face one another, the replacement suggested our hero take charge of the men to bolster their courage. Our hero could not refuse, as his answer was drowned in a chorus of applause.
Thus, saddled on a horse he had never learned to ride, armed with a sword he always failed to swing, he eyed the leader of the opposing force, an immense man bigger than a tree, hair reaching his knees, wielding an axe painted red from the countless foes and widows he had slain.
Before the horns of battle were blown the enemy sent an envoy: it was desired that a duel should settle this ancient argument, whose origin no one remembered. The replacement heartily accepted.
Our hero and the giant squared off. The giant was disappointed our hero was not a lion, whose jaws he enjoyed stretching to their extremes before ripping them apart. He was also disappointed our hero was not a woman, whose limbs he liked to tear apart, after the act of satiating himself upon her. He was also disappointed our hero was not a bear, whose throat he liked to crush as it was screaming its death. In short, this was a very disappointing afternoon, and the giant wished our hero was himself, for that would have been a truly great battle.
Before the duel could begin, our hero excused himself, for the sake of relief.
The sun had come down quite a ways down while our hero was relieving himself.
The giant was much upset at our hero’s tardiness as he felt there had to be honor in something. He threw down his arms and stormed into the camp, throwing it inside out searching for the specific pot our hero was squatting over.
Upon finding our hero’s food, he ate it; upon finding the wine, he drank it; upon finding the woman, he ravished her, and then scattered her limbs into the winds (she found neither experience pleasant); he then fell to his knees, having taken three helpings of poison. The army cut the giant up into pieces, and then cut the opposing army into ribbons, for their hindquarters were much sore after sitting for so long.
The sack of the city was glorious, the murdering limitless. Children cried over the corpses of their mothers and fathers, grandmothers had their brains spilled for their paltry possessions, and men and women who spent their entire lives perfecting a profession had their stores looted and themselves sold to slavery. The king was so happy with this that the replacement was awarded a bear pelt; the men were so happy to pilfer a few pieces of furniture and clothing that they forgot they would resume their lives of boredom and ignorance, and looked forward to next year’s war.
Our hero ran back to the city, having stripped himself of his costume. He encountered the healer, and reported happily that he had no longer any debt, but was sad that he was at a loss for what to do now. The healer did not understand and then left the bottles of his home only to make some gold pieces from some soldiers who needed healing in the war. Out of politeness he asked our hero what it is he truly wanted to do. “I want to be an adventurer,” he replied. The healer had once been an adventurer; perhaps our hero would like to join him? Our hero could find no other proposition more agreeable.
© 2025 François-Marie Lee