Kindle Edition: Wistril Compleat

Kindle owners, take heart!    All three tales of Wistril the wizard    and his sardonic sidekick Kern    are now available from Amazon    for the Kindle e-book reader!    Get 'Wistril Compleat' for 99 cents    from Amazon, for the Kindle!     Want Wistril, but don't have a Kindle?      Go here to pick up a printed copy    direct from Sizzling Lizard Press.    Cover art for Wistril Compleat    courtesy of Beth Morgan

An excerpt from "Wistil Compleat:"

Wistril paced, hands clasped behind his back, small round mouth set in a scowl, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Occasionally the rotund wizard would mutter to himself, or turn abruptly, as if starting for his desk or the door -- but after a pace or three he would turn, ball his fists, and resume his small but determined march.

Kern leaned against the edge of his writing-desk and watched.

"Begone," muttered Wistril, after a time.

"Master--" began Kern.

"Confound it, Apprentice, get thee hence." Wistril halted, wiped sweat from his bald head with the sleeve of his wrinkled brown robe, and put his hands on his hips. "You allowed a wumpus arcanis felineae to escape the Castle environs -- "

"The wumpus cat will be back, Master," said Kern, quickly. "It likes the South Tower. All we need do is leave a shutter open." Kern paused. "Anyway, maybe you should conjure up another one. The missus might like a basket of kittens."

Wistril's wet blue eyes narrowed. "Have a care, Apprentice."

Kern pulled himself upright and met Wistril's glare. "I do, Master," he said, quietly. "And I'd be less prone to make insensitive jests if I knew what led you to hurl lightning-bolts at the furniture earlier today."

Wistril's scowl deepened. After a moment he reached into his robe, pulled out a folded paper, and thrust it at Kern.

"Read," growled Wistril. He turned his eyes from the paper, as though it were a thing of horror. "Read it carefully. And apprentice -- when you speak of it, as you surely will, let your words be tempered with the depth of my distress."

Kern took the paper, unfolded it, and read. Wistril stood unmoving before him.

Done, Kern folded the letter, handed it back to Wistril, and walked to stand behind his writing desk. "Master," he said, "I need to sit down. Won't you do the same?"

"No," growled Wistril, his wide face reddening. "I cannot be still. I can not rest, until I have plotted a safe course through this confounded . . ." Wistril flailed with his hands, groping for a word.

"Matrimonial maelstrom?" offered Kern. "Flurry of fiancées? Siege of suitors?"

Wistril threw up his hands, stamped to his own massive, ancient desk, and sank into his wide, worn rolling-chair. Kern shook his head.

"Master," said Kern. "As painful as this may be, I need to make sure I understand your situation. Oomish isn't my first tongue, or even my second. May I?"

Defeated, Wistril shrugged.

"The letter appears to be from a Lady Emmerbee Hohnserrat," said Kern, carefully. "Furthermore, this Lady Emmerbee claims to be -- and I must be misreading this part -- your fiancée."

"Correct," said Wistril, his bald head flushing.

Kern blinked. "Fiancée," he said, pronouncing the word carefully. "That would imply that you, Master, asked this woman -- pardon me, the Lady Hohnserrat -- to marry you."

"Of course I did," snapped Wistril. "Else why in blazes would she title herself my fiancée?"

Kern counted silently to ten.

"Then I must ask, Master, why are you surprised?" asked Kern. "You asked. She said yes. A wedding is the inevitable -- some might say inescapable, but I'm far to sensitive to use such a harsh term -- conclusion to the state of being affianced."

Wistril took in a bushel of air. "All Oomish ladies are affianced," he said, with a pained expression. "Some twenty-three are, in fact, affianced to me."

Kern ogled. "Twenty-three?" he mouthed, silently.

Wistril closed his eyes and shook his head, his expression grim.

"Twenty-three," repeated the wizard. "Which is by no means considered an unusually large pool of suitors," he added. "Kauph is a lesser House of the lesser Houses -- were I Strampish, or a Hool, I should require two scribes and a mathematician merely to keep my records in order."

Kern shook his head. "How long have you been, um, betrothed?" he said.

"I was twelve, at the time," said Wistril. "The Lady Hohnserrat was, I believe, nine. We have neither seen each other nor communicated since that day." Wistril shuddered. "Oomish betrothals are merely a bloodless means of conquest among the Houses," he said. "And since conquest of Kauph would, by any reasonable standards, constitute an enormous waste of time, I thought myself safe from any matrimonial . . . predations."

Kern let the silence linger on for a few moments. Crows cawed frantically in the pines just beyond the castle walls, and Kern wondered idly if the wumpus cat was the source of the disturbance.

"So," he said, at last, "Your fiancée -- pardon, the Lady Hohnserrat -- is bound for Kauph, in search, as she says, of the wedding flag." Kern frowned. "I didn't know we had any flags, Master," he said. "Especially not a wedding flag. What does that look like, anyway? A frightened groom rampant, set against a field of scowling in-laws?"

Wistril glared. "The wedding flag is also a custom among Oomish families of high rank," he said. "When a lady of noble birth comes seeking matrimony, she looks first to the ramparts of the prospective groom's keep. By flying a white flag, the groom signals acceptance of the suit."

"How appropriate," said Kern. He raised his forefinger. "What if we hoist a green flag, then? Will the Lady ride on in search of new suitors?"

Wistril sighed. "Such is the custom," said the wizard. "But we shall fly no flag of any color until first I speak to the Lady Hohnserrat." Wistril stared up toward the heavens. "Since mindless ardor cannot be her motive in pressing this absurd suit, hope remains that I can dissuade her without resorting to rebuff and insult."

Kern nodded sagely. "Just don't charm her unintentionally, Master," he said. "Be a pity if you found happiness. Think of the disruption to your reading schedule!"

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