A Hero's Journey: It Takes Two

     The commotion in the bandit camp woke Mordred up at last. The stealthy Shoyru sat up in time to see Petro hurled at the foot of his makeshift throne.

     “What in the name of Neopia is going on?” Instead of answering him, the yellow Nimmo merely pointed at the scene that unfolded before him, which was enough to answer Mordred’s question – Jeran and Rohane, back-to-back in the middle of Mordred’s band, swords flashing and most certainly not tied to anything.

     “On your left!” the blue Lupe cried as he blocked Touren’s daggers, only for the camouflage Ogrin to duck and weave past him. Touren did not get far; Rohane stuck out a foot and tripped him so he collided into Vannie.

     “First my winning streak, now this!” the woodland Jetsam complained as he tried to extricate himself from Touren.

     “Less talk, more fighting!” Touren grumbled. The two of them rushed the two knights. Though Touren kicked out at Rohane, the latter knocked the Ogrin out with the pommel of his sword before swinging his blade high to meet Vannie’s spear.

     Meanwhile, Jeran had managed to wrestle Athala, knocking the wind out of the pirate Elephante and pinning her to the ground so he can tie her wrists behind her back – easier said than done as she struggled against him every step of the way.

     “What are you doing? Don’t let my king’s ransoms get away!” Mordred bellowed at Petro, who was busy selecting an arrow from his quiver.

     In response, the Nimmo said irritably, “Sir, I am going to try and snipe them.” He put the arrow to his bow and took aim, but while Petro was waiting for an opening, Mordred heard the faint rustle of bushes and the muffled thump of something falling onto the grass.

     “Never mind. Do what you need to,” the Shoyru grumbled with a dismissive wave of his gloved hand as he stood up and plunged into the foliage surrounding their camp. “I’ll be back.”

     Petro shrugged and frowned as he looked along the shaft of his arrow before letting it fly.

     “Incoming!” Jeran yelled, and he and Rohane scrambled aside in two different directions. The Nimmo’s arrow thudded into the ground, and though its path found its end, the battle did not. Jeran winced as one of Mildred’s swords caught him on his cheek and he staggered backwards, but he immediately lunged forward, parrying the incoming barrage of slashes and knocking one of the Cybunny’s blades out of her hands.

     After Rohane chopped Vannie’s spear in half, the woodland Jetsam lunged forward with fists upraised. Vannie threw a hard right that forced Rohane to duck. As he did, the Jetsam punched with his left and made Rohane drop his sword with a gasp of agony and surprise. The bandit grinned, brushing off his fins.

     “What’s a knight without his sword?”

     Before he could get an answer, the woodland Jetsam yelped as the Blumaroo’s knee connected painfully with his stomach, followed by a punch straight to the bandit’s jaw. Vannie doubled over and yelped, backing away with one fin on his face.

     “You were saying?”

     Vannie whimpered. “I give up! I didn’t sign up for this!” He turned tail and fled.

     “Vannie, don’t leave me!” Zeke shouted, before whirling around to try and grab Rohane – only to miss entirely.

     * * *

     Though he knew he should remain out of sight while Jeran and Rohane made short work of the bandit camp, Will couldn’t help but pick up a thin branch from the ground, peer out from behind the bushes, and start thrusting and jabbing with the branch, imitating the way Jeran parried both of Mildred’s shortswords, the pass that allowed Rohane to slice Vannie’s spear in half, and the following strike from Rohane toward Zeke’s knees that caused the Tonu to drop onto the ground with a yelp of pain. The purple Bori was careful, careful to remain quiet, and though it was dark, his face shone like the morning sun with exhilaration.

     That is, until he tried to replicate a smooth movement that began with dodging one of Petro’s arrows to swinging a sword toward Mildred. Will slipped and fell, just managing to shove his claw into his mouth to keep from crying out loud.

     Unfortunately, he had made just enough noise for someone to find him.

     Before he knew it, someone grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him out from the bushes.

     * * *

     Petro reached up into his quiver; it was empty, and he felt a pang in his stomach as Jeran bounded toward him and threw him into the nearest tent. Not too far away, Rohane had finished tying Zeke, Mildred, Touren, and Athala to the same tree the knights had been tied to. The blue Lupe made use of the tent’s cords to restrain the Nimmo archer, even going as far as to tie Petro’s wrists with the bowstring.

     “Where’s Mordred?” Jeran asked as he stood up. “He was here a while ago!”

     “I’m right here, Sir Knight.”

     The stealthy Shoyru stepped out from the bushes, grinning as he held up a small, struggling purple Bori that was trying to punch him, but Mordred held him out far enough that his claws could only scratch his arm.

     “Will!” Jeran and Rohane cried.

     “Wilfrith, son of Baron Cuthbert,” Mordred said smoothly as though reciting a grocery list. “Is this what you were looking for?”

     “Don’t you dare!” Rohane shouted. At the same time, Jeran yelled, “Don’t hurt him!”

     “Drop your weapons, you brutes,” the Shoyru commanded. He drew a knife from his belt and held it close to the Bori. “Since you two are more valuable than a little noble whelp, I can easily do without him.”

     Will whimpered at the sight of the glistening blade. Jeran and Rohane both dropped their swords.

     “What do we do?” the white Blumaroo whispered.

     “I’ll let little Wilfrith go if you two come with me as my prisoners,” said Mordred, before Jeran could answer. “Let me exchange you for a lovely sum of money. After all, what is he, compared to a couple of meatheads?”

     “Why does everyone call us meatheads?” Jeran protested.

     “Never mind that, what’s the plan?” Rohane said through gritted teeth.

     “Come on, this is a reasonable offer.” Mordred sighed, relaxing as he held up Will close to his face. “I don’t have all night. You lot interrupted my sleep, and – ouch!”

     The knights gasped. Will had managed to punch Mordred right in his eye, causing the stealthy Shoyru to drop both his knife and the purple Bori onto the ground. Will wasted no time scurrying away to watch from the bushes, placing as much distance as possible between him and the bandit leader.

     “You little…”

     “You’re taking no one prisoner,” Jeran declared, picking up his sword. Then he turned to the white Blumaroo. “Ready to teach him a lesson?”

     “Meathead style?” Rohane said, retrieving his own sword and raising an eyebrow.

     “Double meathead style,” the blue Lupe clarified with a toothy grin as he hurled himself onto Mordred, wrestling the Shoyru to the ground. The two of them rolled in the dirt, Jeran keeping Mordred away from the fallen knife on the ground while punching and kicking relentlessly. One lucky headbutt later, Mordred managed to extricate himself, but he didn’t get too far. He had to lean away to avoid Rohane’s sword, and though he successfully picked up his knife again, Rohane was quick to disarm him with a feint and a complex pass that sent the small blade spinning a foot away from Petro, who was still bound in the middle of a broken-down tent.

     Back on his feet, Jeran gave Rohane a thumbs up before pursuing Mordred again.

     “Good job!”

     “We’re not done yet!”

     “I know. Don’t let him get away!”

     Meanwhile, Mordred managed to grab his dagger again.

     “Boss, help me!” Petro mumbled. But the stealthy Shoyru ignored the yellow Nimmo entirely, jumping back onto his feet and sprinting toward Jeran. The knight was ready, swinging his sword high and wide before suddenly connecting with Mordred’s dagger. Their blades clashed over and over, ringing out in the clearing, and just as Mordred managed to duck, turn and sidestep away, he found himself having to fend Rohane off instead, and it didn’t take long for him to be beset on both sides by two relentless swordsmen.

     Mordred backed away, sweat beading his brow as he lunged to his left and flinched as Jeran scored his sleeve and kicked at his knees. As he danced away, Rohane slashed at his wings, causing him to drop to the ground. But the Shoyru got back up and continued to fight, slashing and hacking desperately until both knights were beside him, striking and parrying in sync until he was forced to go on the defensive, panting with increased exertion.

     Jeran grinned, baring his teeth. “Time for a meathead sandwich!”

     “A what?” Rohane raised his eyebrows.

     The Lupe winked. “Follow my lead.” He lowered his sword, drew back, and slammed his entire body into Mordred’s left side. Rohane did the same on Mordred’s right, effectively sandwiching the bandit, who was completely caught off guard and was left teetering on his feet, exhausted and injured.

     “I…I hate…meatheads…”

     Out of nowhere, a well-thrown stone struck Mordred, who overbalanced and toppled onto the ground, unmoving. Sheathing their swords, Jeran and Rohane looked up and saw Will, who had come out of the bushes, his arm still upraised.

     Jeran chuckled. “You really love playing catch, don’t you, Wi – oof!” He gasped as the purple Bori ran toward them and sandwiched them into a very tight hug – as tight as an eager young child could muster. Rohane winced at the impact of Will’s arm on his injured side.

     “You did it! You beat the bad guys!”

     At first, the two knights were speechless. Then, they relaxed in Will’s grip before gently prying him from them.

     “We did beat them,” Rohane answered, “but I think we have to beat it. Your father must be worried sick about you.”

     “And we’ll have to let King Skarl and the Order know about…” The blue Lupe jerked a thumb at the unconscious Shoyru.

     “And get a nice head start.”

     “Agreed.”

     Rohane blinked. “You’re agreeing with me?”

     “I don’t have time to argue with you agreeing with me, let’s go!”

     * * *

     The first rays of dawn emerged from behind the hills of Meridell’s greenery, bathing two knights and their young charge in light. Though Will was still asleep, Jeran and Rohane were awake, lying on the grass next to the river and surveying their surroundings.

     “We’ll probably have to wake Will soon,” said Rohane, sitting up with a hand on his injury. “We managed to put Mordred and his band of idiots behind us, but…”

     “I know, but this is our last stop before we trek back to the castle,” Jeran replied, drawing his knees up to his chest and taking a deep breath. He managed a small smile. “I think we can take our time a little bit, then eat breakfast on the road.”

     The white Blumaroo gave this some serious thought, his brow furrowing. Finally, he looked up at his travelling companion. “You’re probably right.”

     “And now you’re agreeing with me.”

     “Don’t get used to it.” Rohane smiled back, not without a brief glint of smugness in his eyes.

     Jeran laughed. “Heh, I don’t think I will. It’s so weird. But…it’s an okay kind of weird.”

     “Just ‘okay’, Commander?”

     In response, Jeran reached out and punched Rohane lightly on the shoulder. “Well, anyone who actually goes along with my meathead sandwich strategy is okay in my book. I can’t believe we got on the same page for that.”

     Rohane stared at him sternly. “Let’s not tell anyone else. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

     The blue Lupe nodded. “Agreed.” They reached out and shook hands, just as Will yawned and stretched out his arms.

     “Hope you’re ready for breakfast on the road, Will,” said Jeran.

     “I’m ready!” the purple Bori piped up, jumping to his feet. He began pumping his fist into the air and pretending to punch imaginary enemies. “With Sir Jeran and Sir Rohane, I can do anything! Even help them take down bad guys with their meathead sandwich! Pow! Wham! That means Shoyru got sandwiched!” Will even clasped his claws together as though miming the act of being sandwiched.

     The two knights traded a mortified look and decided to focus, at first, on gathering their things. Jeran broke the silence by clearing his throat and saying, “Er…Will, it might be, uh, better if you didn’t talk about the meathead sandwich.”

     “Ever again,” Rohane added hastily, slinging his pack onto his shoulder, opposite to his injury.

     “But why?”

     “Uh…” The Lupe scratched his head and glanced at Rohane as though expecting the other swordsman to come up with something.

     “It’s…it’s our secret move.”

     “And if you tell anyone else about it…it’ll become less powerful.”

     “We can’t beat bad guys with it anymore if everyone knows about the meathead sandwich.”

     Jeran grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. That. The meathead sandwich has to stay at its full strength or else we can’t save the day.”

     Will tilted his head as he looked from one knight to the other. Then he beamed at his idols. “All right! I’ll keep your secret, don’t worry!” He took a deep breath, claws behind his back. “I’m so happy you two are friends again.”

     “Again?” Rohane repeated. Then he blinked and sighed as realization dawned on him. “Oh. Right. We’re sorry we yelled at you last night, Will. Before Mordred and the others found us. And we’re sorry we fought instead of working together.”

     “Yeah, maybe they wouldn’t have found us if we hadn’t fought,” Jeran concurred. “Thanks for saving us there. You were brave, following us into the bandit camp.”

     The Bori beamed. “Heh, I just did what I knew a good knight would.”

     “A good knight, huh,” Jeran mused. He ran a hand through his ears. “Wow. I haven’t been one lately.”

     “Same here,” Rohane agreed.

     “We fought a lot…still, that didn’t mean we stopped being friends.”

     The white Blumaroo nodded before turning to stare at Jeran. “You’re – no, actually, you’re right.” He let out a short chuckle. “No, really, I mean it. I guess we really are friends.”

     “You only realized that now?” Jeran playfully shoved him as they began their trek, following the direction of the river. “You meathead.”

     “Watch who you’re calling a meathead, you meathead,” Rohane quipped, smirking.

     “Well, without this meathead, I don’t think I would’ve been able to find Will.” The blue Lupe winked. Then he paused, his smile fading. “Speaking of which, where’s Will?”

     Looking up, they saw Will running ahead of them, kicking off his shoes, and wading into the river with a happy giggle.

     “Will, come on,” said Rohane, gesturing for him to step out of the water. “We have to keep moving.”

     “Aw, c’mon, just one paddle?” the purple Bori pleaded as the water went up to his waist and he started splashing around. “The water’s so nice, and I…I don’t know when I’ll get to do this again.”

     Jeran and Rohane looked at each other. The white Blumaroo shrugged and said, “Well, after he came back to free us, he deserves at least a – “ His voice trailed off when he saw Jeran already removing his boots and his tunic.

     “Last one in is a rotten Negg!”

     At first, Rohane stood there in bewilderment before kicking his own boots off, laughing. “Hey! That’s unfair!”

To be continued…