Chapter 5: Amorous Admiration

Phineas and the masked man made eye contact that seemed to freeze the latter. Accustomed to these situations, the teen detective reached into his pants pockets, only to find the robes he wore. Mentally cursing his outfit, Phinn adjusted, while also bemoaning his failure to bring his new stun gun along on this case. Grabbing a fake dagger, he clutched and lifted it into the air.

The masked man finally overcame his shock and rushed at the scrawny young man. Muscle memory made Phinn swing the fake dagger at the oncoming man’s eye, but a slight head shift sent it slamming into the intruder’s temple, which he shrugged off.

Barreling forward, the disguised executioner pushed Phineas across the tiny hallway until the teen’s body slammed into another door. With part of his body hitting the doorframe’s edge, intense pain shot through Phinn’s body while the impact sent the air out of his lungs. He let go and slid to the floor in a crumpled ball as the man fled.

“Fuck,” Phinn spat, rolling over to struggle to his feet while ignoring the continued pain.

Stumbling to the closed door, the junior investigator pulled it open and descended the stairs. Hearing nothing, he bypassed the doors for the other floors until he practically fell into the open lobby.

Scanning the lobby and reception desk, Phinn didn’t locate the innkeeper. But when he spun around, he found himself facing an unexpected sight: a young woman in a medieval-inspired French maid uniform. Or at least that was Phinn’s guess, as his eyes traveled up and down while he studied the maid.

A redhead with long, bright copper hair tied up, bright green eyes, and medium-to-large breasts, she filled the frilly, low-cut, mid-thigh uniform quite nicely. Those green eyes stared at Phineas in apparent shock.

“Did a man just come down here?”

“Wh-What?” the ginger stammered, continuing to stare at him.

“Did a man come down the stairs moments before me?” Phinn repeated.

“N-No. No one has come downstairs in the last few minutes,” the maid said, regaining her composure.

“Crap! Uh, stay here until I get back, okay?”

Watching the maid nod, Phinn returned up the stairs while still experiencing pain. I just recovered from my bruised ribs. This had better go away. The high school gumshoe didn’t spot anything on the second floor, but on the third, he noticed a partially open window in a hallway larger than his own.

“Seriously?” Phinn mumbled, noticing that the window overlooked the roof of an extension from either the hotel or the boarding house. A person could jump down the short distance to escape if the intruder wasn’t a guest hiding in their room.

Returning to the lobby, Phinn found the maid waiting. Pleased that she had followed his request, the detective thanked her.

“D-Did you find him?”

“No.”

“I know you,” the redhead said before Phinn could leave.

“That’s doubtful.”

“No, I know the real you. You’re famous,” the maid said, causing Phinn to recognize that some of her shock had actually been awe.

“Oh, um, how about we keep that a secret, alright?” Phinn asked, frowning over the possible recognition. Jake got all the media attention because Phinn hated it.

“Are you conducting an investigation?” she asked, sounding almost breathless.

“That’s classified. Uh, I’m Pero Plive,” Phineas introduced himself, adding a wink.

“Muffy Feltfeather,” the ginger revealed, causing his eyebrows to arch. “I’m an admirer.”

“Oh, well, my partner, Jarl Bustard, is off on a mission as we speak,” Phinn replied, watching uncomfortably as Muffy ran a hand down her front, tracing a finger along her open cleavage.

“But it’s you that I admire,” Muffy said, pushing her body into Phinn’s before whispering the final part into his ear. “Phineas.”

“That’s, um, kind of you to say, Miss Feltfeather,” the bespectacled sleuth said, feeling her hot breath on his ear and neck.

“Call me Muffy, but I’d gladly let you feel my feather. All you have to do is ask,” the sultry maid promised, running her tongue along the edge of Phinn’s ear.

“Um, okay?”

“Are you staying for long? I’d love to hear about your adventures, especially with all those celebrities,” the maid purred, sliding a hand inside the monsterologist’s robes and along his groin.

“Mu-Muffy! What in the name of Galimus are you doing?”

The maid sprang away from Phineas, revealing Varlo Gladwin standing near the entrance to the dining room with an angry expression. Upon recognizing the recent guest check-in, he turned furious. Aware of where this might be headed, the scheming sleuth sought to turn the tables.

“It’s about time, Gladwin! What kind of an establishment are you running here? How cheap are your locks? I returned moments ago to discover an intruder rifling through my bedchamber. What have you to say about that?”

“A-An in-intruder?” the innkeeper sputtered, taken aback by the revelation.

“Yes, an intruder. Or might I call him a burglar based on the mask he wore?”

“A burglar?” Gladwin repeated, while looking over his shoulder into the dining room in concern.

“That’s what I said! Now, Miss Feltfeather says that she didn’t see anyone come down during this incident. Do you know what that could mean?” Phinn challenged, causing Varlo to blanch at the implication. “Yes, indeed. Now, if you don’t want this brought to King Thulnor’s attention, I want the names and physical descriptions of your guests, and I want them now!”

Hopefully, Jake’s day is going better than mine, Phinn thought, watching the innkeeper scramble into the reception nook.

“Rest easy, son. It’s not that hard, and you’ll get the hang of it quickly.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munchmore,” Jake told the graying, brown-haired man in a gray suit.

“I told you to call me Porco,” the man reminded, chuckling.

A so-called scribe, the late-forties Porco Munchmore could also be called an umpire or a referee. As an expert on the LARPing rules for the Mirthmakers Fellowship, he monitored the trade run and adjudicated any disputes over hits and point deductions.

The kindly man noticed Jake’s worried expression when he arrived with Luna. Upon learning from the well-known bard about her guest’s inexperience, Porco had spent the past twenty minutes going over what Jake needed to know.

“Right. So a hit to my arm or leg is a one-point loss, and a blow to my torso is double.”

“That depends on whether it strikes your armor or not,” Porco reminded for the fourth time.

“And I’m responsible for keeping score. Wait, how many hit points do I have?” Jake asked, forgetting.

“How about I help you this time, okay?” the scribe suggested after repeating his health points number. “It might be easier for your first time, especially with potential magic damage.”

“Magic?!”

“Relax and enjoy the game, Jarl,” Porco said, walking over toward Mr. Spendthrift after the man demanded his presence.

“Oh, man, this is going to be so bad,” Jake muttered, rolling his shoulders to get comfortable in the shoddy armor he wore. Next, he readjusted the helmet, which slipped around on his head. “What’s this damn thing called again?”

“A kettle helm,” Kale Lampkin reminded.

A fellow squire and eighteen-year-old, Kale had short, copper-red hair and blue eyes, which sort of reminded Jake of Corky. He wore the same dull gray armor and helmet and carried a short sword and a small, round shield. Squiring since the start of the summer, Lampkin had far more experience than Jake, but who didn’t?

“Thanks,” Jake replied as one of the knights came over. Dori something, since Jake had forgotten his surname, planned to scout ahead of them on horseback.

“Don’t concern yourself, Bustard. Follow your instincts and our leads, and you’ll do fine,” Dori said, moving over to recheck his saddle.

What if I don’t have any instincts? Jake asked himself with a deep sigh.

Besides Dori and Kale, a knight named Madoc Marcox accompanied them. A muscular man in his mid-twenties, the knight looked tough and intimidating to Jake. It didn't help that his breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets, and greaves all matched Dori's, but Madoc's had multiple dents and a crusty redness in spots that hinted at numerous battles. The scariest aspect might be his helmet and weapon, which Kale called a barbute and a halberd (or poleaxe).

The other man who’d been overseeing the wagon when Luna dropped him off was Mr. Spendthrift. Jake assumed he had a first name, but the arrogant, condescending representative of the Prospero Trading Company didn’t offer it, while he grunted a hello. The man spent most of his time berating the wagon’s driver, Clem, while ordering several pieces of cargo rearranged. Clem did so without a word, but Jake later saw him return to the horse that would pull the small wagon and grumble a few complaints to it.

Several other men milled around, but Jake paid them little attention. They seemed like regular folk or merchants in their peasant shirts or overalls, and he kept his focus on repeating the rules over and over in his head.

The sound of two laughing knights revealed that their additional force had arrived moments after the trade official resumed complaining about them. Both knights wore armor similar to Dori's in style and shine. However, they wore nasal helms: open-faced helmets with a prominent metal strip extending from the brow to the nose and the center of the face. While they offered less protection than Madoc's barbute, their helmets gave better sight and hearing. The two newcomers also carried longswords and round, medium metal shields.

“Tardiness is unacceptable. Captain Falstaff shall hear about this,” Spendthrift declared, ordering Dori to have them ready to depart shortly.

“Who’s this?” one knight asked, looking at Jake. Both newcomers had black hair, this one’s longish, and a tall, slim figure.

“Jarl Bustard, a new squire,” Madoc said, gruffly making introductions. “These are Romulus Rathmore and Arrol Crowther, veterans of two summers with the Concord Order. Follow them to survive.”

“No way,” the knight named Romulus said, getting his first look at Jake. Leaning in with narrowed eyes, he sprang back with a triumphant, “Holy shit!”

“What?” Arrol questioned.

“We got a fish out of water in our midst. It’s Jake Magnum, Boy Detective!” Romulus announced derisively.

“Huh?” Kale sounded, looking at Jake with a funny expression.

“Wait, the tight end from your rival school?” Arrol asked, glancing over at a nodding Romulus.

Jake studied the knight with short black hair, green eyes, and an athletic, above-average height. His eyes widened in surprised recognition.

“Googan. And I’m also a starting linebacker these days.”

“Ooh, aren’t you special, Magnum,” Dennis Googan, aka Romulus Rathmore, spat.

Two years older, the senior played safety for South High and had a decent shot of playing collegiately at a lower-level school. After shining on the junior varsity team, Jake had been promoted to the North High varsity squad midway through his sophomore year. After a decent debut, Jake had exploded into fame with a stellar game against their crosstown rival in Edgewater’s annual civil war. His biggest moment came after a short catch around midfield, which sent Jake barreling over and around defenders. With only one man left before the end zone, Jake delivered a brutal stiff-arm that knocked Googan, the Seawolves’ starting safety, backward in a comical manner. Humiliated by the moment, Dennis had never recovered, losing his starting position late into the season.

“How have you been, Googan?” Jake inquired politely.

“So much better now, Big Shot. Or should I say, shut up, squire?” Dennis challenged, grinning sinisterly. “I don’t care if you’re a famous detective or if you’re here on a case. You’re going to be my bitch, Jake!”

“Stay IC, Rathmore!” Spendthrift ordered, scowling.

Ah, dammit. Googan’s still got a grudge. Great! Jake groaned, realizing his day had gotten a whole lot worse. Distracted by this new complication, Jake failed to notice Dori ordering them into formation while the onlookers whispered among themselves about Jarl Bustard’s real identity.

So focused on mimicking Kale’s spot on the opposite side of the wagon, Jake never saw Rathmore’s shove. Caught off guard and off-balance, Jake slammed into Dori as he rode past. The blow sent the knight off his horse to tumble to the ground. Immediately, their mission commander cried out in pain.

“Way to hurt the boss, Bustard,” Arrol said, his voice sparking a new memory. This one featured a winter fight at Market Square during the Christmas festivities later in his sophomore year, when Dennis’s cousin had visited from Anchor Rock. The man currently known as Arrol had been that cousin.

“Where are Luke and Andre when I need them again?” Jake mumbled.

“March properly, squire!” Arrol Crowther ordered, while his cousin snickered. “Can’t you keep a rhythm?”

Fuming at the treatment, Jake glared at the pair of knights. It had been like this ever since Dori had been carted off with a knee injury. No one else seemed to have seen Romulus shove Jake, although he suspected the Kale had. Once he realized Jake would be a target, the other squire shied away from him. Worse, Madoc barked at the rookie for injuring their commander, and Spendthrift doubled down on his condescending manner. Only the neutral scribe, Porco Munchmore, still treated Jake kindly.

Traveling east from Crownhold, the wagon group followed the path as it curved into the usually safe Goodnight Road. Now headed north, Porco announced that the Enchanted Forest was the large tract of woods to their left. This piqued the detective's attention, since he recalled that the Shrine of Taithlor lay inside those woods. Gulping at the location of the recent ghost sighting, Jake thanked it for being early afternoon while they passed by.

“Coming up to the east is Locksley Manor,” Porco said, breaking the silence of the past ten minutes. Although the cousins glared at him, they knew better than to disrespect the scribe. “The sole remaining noble house outside of Crownhold, it’s long been rumored to be haunted by the family’s ancestors or those slain during assassination attempts.”

Walking along the right side of the wagon, Jake had an unobstructed view of the grand manor. A huge three-story building, the teen detective compared it to Ellison House, the recent site of a case. Wow, this place might be larger than Yvonne's home. I can see how adventures take place inside. Luckily, that's a different ghost from the one we're investigating.

Still, Jake rubbernecked when he spotted an attractive woman in a fancy dress exiting the stables while heading toward a large greenhouse. The middle-aged beauty made the popular football player think of Sharon Capshaw, the married mother of one of his sister's best friends and one of Jake's longest crushes. After the successful completion of their previous case, Mrs. Capshaw had arranged a special thank-you for Jake in her pool house, which fulfilled another sexual fantasy for the junior investigator.

Damn, I should’ve stayed home. Sure, Mrs. Capshaw said it was a one-time thing, but what if she changed her mind? This stupid case blew any shot of another round.

After another twenty minutes, they reached what Porco called the Crossroad. Continuing on their current path, Goodnight Road curved to the northwest as it turned into Sword Way. With the Enchanted Forest replaced on their left by the Ironfields and the Glum Oaks to their right, Madoc warned everyone to stay sharp.

With only small clusters of trees in the Ironfields, any attack would likely come from the heavily wooded Glum Oaks. The long stretches of trees further reminded Jake of the forest and marshes around Ellison House during that previous case. He and Phinn hated those woods, as they often got lost for long periods.

“What was that?” Arrol questioned, tensing from his spot in front of Jake. A crackle sounded to the east.

“Hold steady!” Madoc barked from behind the wagon.

Out of nowhere, three arrows hit Clem in rapid succession. All direct hits to the neck or face, Porco quickly ruled the wagon driver dead, which led him to crumple into his seat. Sputtering at the shocking development, Spendthrift ordered the knights to protect him as the cart slowed to a halt.

A war cry from the left caused everyone to turn toward the Ironfields.

Three strange individuals rose from the high grass to join a fourth, who loosed an arrow at Romulus. The experienced knight blocked the shot with his shield as Kale raced around the wagon to join Jake. Curious about their attackers, the sleuth peered around the cargo while Madoc stepped forward to await the bandits.

“It’s the Scattercrows,” Madoc announced. “But I don’t see Daxer or Vollus. Keep an eye out for them.”

“Hell, Crix rang home after seeing Grisella the other night,” Rathmore cackled, blocking another arrow.

“He might have returned. Don’t take anything for granted. Squires, watch our backs,” Madoc ordered. “Watch the Oaks.”

“What the hell are they?” Jake asked aloud, unfamiliar with these various species.

“Bhorossa is a druid, but what lies beneath his hood is unclear,” Porco said, walking past Jake to stand clearly behind the wagon. As the referee, he needed to maintain sightlines to any possible attacks. “Torac is a half-orc, Fridd is a goblin, and Oshunna is a human female.”

Jake peered forward, studying the oncoming bandits. Torac appeared to wear gray paint and fangs. Clearly, Fridd wore a rubber or latex mask. Of course, a well-known admirer of women, Jake studied Oshunna the longest. The rogue had neck-length black hair, medium-sized breasts, and an athletic figure. He only backed off his evaluation after she shot an arrow at him. After it missed, the detective looked down and noticed a foam cork where the arrowhead should have been.

Then, Jake looked around in confusion as the druid chanted gibberish, which caused Arrol, near the front of the wagon, to scream in pain before dropping to roll around the ground. Poroc announced a substantial loss of hit points and words that sounded like "Produce Flame." Showing his cowardice, Spendthrift shoved Kale and Jake out of the way so that he could crawl under the wagon to hide.

“I’ll take the half-orc and goblin. Squires, get Crowther behind the cart,” Madoc ordered, attaching a small shield to his forearm.

Racing around the horse, Jake pulled Arrol by the arms. Kale helped slightly with the legs, but the stronger football player did most of the lifting. The knight played up his injuries by moaning and groaning. After depositing him by the wagon seat, Jake moved to the rear again to watch the battles.

Madoc’s shield absorbed a heavy blow from Torac’s battleaxe before the knight spun around to slash at Fridd with his long poleaxe. The goblin barely parried the strike with his spiked mace. Nearby, Oshunna had Romulus caught off-balance with her speed and quick rapier slashes.

“We need to do something,” Kale said, but when Jake looked over, the copper-headed squire shrugged, unsure what to do.

Confused by this whole ordeal, Jake tried to envision their options. Watching the three attackers, the detective realized that the druid had vanished from view. Kneeling, he peered around Spendthrift, but didn’t see any legs moving around the wagon’s front. Returning to his feet, Jake studied the battlefield like he would a football field. Aware of his limitations, the inexperienced player focused on the weakest-looking bandit.

“Stay here and guard those two. I’ll handle the goblin,” the gridiron leader announced. However, Jake’s plan fell apart as three hideous creatures emerged from the Glum Oaks behind Kale. “What the fuck?”

“Ah, troglodytes!” Kale shrieked.

“Reptilian humanoids,” Porco called out when Jake looked at him for an explanation.

“Curses, they have help today!” Madoc announced, knocking Fridd over with a strong kick to his stomach.

“They’re coming for us,” Kale screamed, shoving Jake aside as he ran from the lizard-like trio.

Staggering, but not losing his balance, Jake heard Arrol’s death screams before he saw the new arrivals attack the injured knight with clubs and a spear.

“Loss of right arm,” Porco ruled despite Rathmore’s arguments.

“No, sluffing, Romulus!” Oshunna cried, watching as the injured knight retreated after losing the use of his sword arm.

Realizing that circumstances had taken a turn for the worse, Jake mumbled, "Fuck it," before charging full speed at the troglodytes. Mimicking his play as a tight end after a catch, Jake braced his shield out and barreled into the trio, knocking two to the ground. He took damage from a poke from the reptilian holding the spear, but the scrum veteran landed a sharp strike across its face with his short sword.

Unfortunately, the two troglodytes that he’d knocked over tackled his legs from behind, sending Jake face-first to the dirt road. Kicking them off, the athletic detective rolled over onto his back. But that only gave him time to see the third lizardman, spear raised high above his head.

BRAAAM

A deep brass sound roared through the air.

During a second blast of the battlehorn, an arrow pierced the sky and struck the spear-wielding troglodyte in the neck.

“It’s the barbarian and her forces!” Torac yelled, alerting his compatriots.

Another arrow struck the lizardman, and then a flying hatchet finished it off, causing it to collapse onto Jake. Covered by the heavy LARPer, the detective struggled to free himself.

Then, Jake froze.

An absolutely breathtaking woman strode out from behind the oak trees. Dressed in a steel chainmail bikini, gauntlets, and high boots, she wore only a loose, thigh-length crimson skirt with slits along each side. Marching forward, she took two daggers off her belt, whipping them at the remaining lizardmen before hefting a broadsword in front of her.

Just before she rushed forward, Jake got a perfect look at one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen. Although the half-orc called her a barbarian, Jake thought she looked like a Viking. In reality, the barbarian looked and dressed almost exactly like Red Sonja, the sword-and-sorcery character. She had shoulder-length ginger-red hair, green eyes, large breasts, and a toned butt.

Watching in awe, Jake witnessed this Viking vixen make swift work of the two remaining troglodytes. Displaying exceptional skill and speed, the athlete seemed like one of the best swordmasters around, despite his limited knowledge. Pushing the lizardman off, Jake crawled to his feet, ready to thank this goddess for rescuing him and his fellow travelers.

Finally on his feet, Jake’s eyes widened as one of the vixen’s barbarian followers slashed Romulus Rathmore across the neck with his axe. Oh, shit! Jake thought, realizing this might be a third team, not allies.

A moment later, a familiar-looking broadsword sliced across Jake’s neck.

“I slay thee, squire,” the sexiest-sounding voice declared, while pulling Jake backward. The move rubbed those large chainmail-covered breasts against his armor.

Although he couldn’t feel much, Jacob Magnum grinned madly as the sexy vixen pulled him to the ground. Looking up, the blond-haired victim admired the swell of those big breasts, while realizing what love at first sight finally felt like.