Marbles: The Hawk Who Refused to Die a Virgin

Chapter 12. Brutus. So Jelly Right Now

Clementine had insisted on riding that gorgeous goddamn horse.

"Why the horse?" Brutus asked. "There's room for two on my boar." Clementine knew that. They rode together on Brutus's war boar all the time. But Clementine loved Destroyer the horse and Brutus, in his heart of hearts, couldn't blame her. This thing was the alpha and omega of horses. At sunrise, before the pursuit party of Brutus, Clementine, the Wizard, and five other gnome mercenaries had even woken up, Destroyer had tacked himself and assisted the bleary- eyed stable boy in tacking the rest of the horses. He had tacked Brutus's own boar for Christ's sake, even making some adjustments to the saddle placement that had improved the riding experience by leaps and bounds for both bearded rider and porcine steed.

The boar's name was Obsequious, because it doted on Brutus, but then again it would have doted on anyone with a sackful of stale corn kernels tied to their belt. Brutus had one one such sack. But a close second to Brutus, the gnome who had literally saved his bacon from slaughter when he had been a piglet, was this horse. Obsequious loved this horse, and when the party had first lit out towards the Riverlands the boar tried to weave in and and out between the horse's legs. The horse took great pains not to step on the boar and its rider, daintily letting its hoof dangle in midair when the boar, in his excitement, sometimes misjudged the horse's next step.

Brutus's head had banged against Destroyer's barrel, embarrassing Brutus.

"Fuck!" shouted Brutus. He reached into his sack and threw a fistful of kernels as far as he could into the tall grass to his right. The boar scuttled off to root for the corn, which gave Brutus time to collect his wits and calm his temper.

Brutus could see Clementine's lemon yellow hat stand out against quilted gray back of the wizard. He was already sweating in the cool morning and a very infrequent jostle from this Cadillac of equines caused her laughing apple cheeks to brush against the lower back sweat of this magical mountebank.

Dude even though they had barely spoken, and despite the fact that the wizard had extended every courtesy to Clementine and the rest of the pursuit party, Brutus just did not like this wizard. Did not. No sir. And not just because his girlfriend's hat was going to be slick with wizard sweat when they made camp tonight.

There.

Was.

Something.

Off.

About.

This.

Guy.

He had already assumed leadership of the pursuit party, which is fine. Whatever. It's his show. But he did it with an arrogance that he could not quite differentiate from competence and that bothered Brutus. The wizard knew how gnomes preferred to be hoisted onto horses by humans (by grabbing both forearms), and he had done this to Clementine. Sure it was polite. It was even the preferred way. But it reminded Brutus just how strong humans were compared to gnomes. Brutus was a strong ass gnome, and could bench well over one hundred and twenty pounds, but he could have never lifted Clementine like that. And the wizard had looked over at Brutus while lifting Clementine up. Like in a challenging way?.

The wizard, Clementine, and Destroyer sped off ahead of the party. The horse couldn't help it, it was just that fast, almost as if it floated off the ground. Obsequious trotted obediently after the horse. Throughout the day, as they tracked Opal through the Riverlands, the wizard would stop Destroyer by one of Opal's abandoned campsites and wait there for the rest of the party. And every time Brutus caught up to them, they were standing next to each other, sharing some exotic, super healthy fare. Like splitting a flagon of pomegranate juice and a seven layer kale quiche or something. And Clementine was falling out laughing. So was the wizard. He had crumbs of quiche in his goatee. Gross.