Page 58 of Healed

“Do not apologise to those not worthy!” Vienna boomed, putting on his best circus barker voice.

“Oh, no,” I giggled, realising he was in peak chaotic mode.

“Rachel King, keeper of the non-working legs, owner of this fine establishment,” he called out.

Darwin turned in slow motion, taking Rachel with him, and Vienna bowed, almost tipping me off his back.

“For Christ’s sake,” I muttered, scrambling to stay on as he lowered himself even further, and then screamed as he bucked back up rapidly.

I grabbed hold of his beard, using it as reins, and held on tight.

“For what do we have here?” Rachel muttered, looking down her nose at us.

“Silence!” Vienna roared, stumbling slightly and knocking over a chair.

I was beginning to think climbing onto his back had been a big, big mistake.

“We challenge thee to a duel,” he declared loftily, grabbing my wrist and brandishing the snooker cue at Rachel and Darwin.

“You what?” I hissed down Vienna’s ear, giving his beard a hard tug.

“A duel,” she laughed. “And hast thou been practicing one’s jab?” she asked, jutting her own snooker cue forward until it stabbed Vienna in the side.

And, of course, he almost fell over.

“We hast not yet been defeated-eth,” he replied.

“Your old English sucks,” I whispered.

“I learned it from Shrek. Shut up, you’re making us look bad,” he hissed back, slapping my thigh.

“I accepted-est your challenge-est,” Rachel replied, proving her old English wasn’t much better. “Taketh up thou position…eth.”

Good grief.

Vienna scuffed his foot on the floor like an animal getting ready to pounce and growled at Rachel and Darwin. Then he was walking us backwards, the rest of the club clearing the floor to make space.

And, funnily enough, the thing that confused me the most wasn’t the fact that I was in the middle of this nor that Vienna was challenging someone to a human-horseback duel. It was the fact that the rest of the club thought this so normal that they just laughed and went along with it.

“And what shalt be one’s reward for winning the duel?” Rachel called out.

“The winner shalt be decreed leader of the hair, and-est all hair buddies henceforth and evermore!”

“Roll up, roll up!” Imogen called, standing up on the bar. “I decree a minor interruption!”

“Get down!” Ant hissed at her.

“Fuck off!” she snapped back.

Ant muttered and grabbed hold of her—or at least attempted to. She scrambled away, sending pint glasses flying.

“I am taking bets for the winner,” she squeaked, giggling as Ant lashed out at her ankles. She grabbed hold of the wooden beam and swung herself up, dangling out of his reach. “Give-eth your gold coin to fair maiden Jade,” she called out, passing the burden onto Jade.

Jade jumped up in her booth, taking her top off and holding it like a sling to accept donations. The crowd erupted in cheers at her actions, and Tools immediately got to his feet.

Seemingly he knew better than to try control his old lady, but he did stand guard, his arms folded, his glare menacing as people placed their bets.

And then I looked and saw Dante in the corner, shaking his head but doing absolutely nothing to stop any of this. He caught my eye and mouthed, “He’s your problem now,” pointing first at Vienna and then at me. Then gave me a very dramatic, sympathetic face.