Griselda
The One Where Rachel Is
Brave
They
were walking towards Central Perk, when Phoebe
suddenly stopped and started looking around, almost
seeming to sniff the air. "What's
up, Pheebs?" said Chandler. "Unstable aura alert?" "You
can joke," said Phoebe, "but I'm sensing something really
weird in the air." "All
I can sense is gas fumes," said Ross jokingly. "Oh,
you!" said Phoebe, sounding rather annoyed. "I'm
telling you, I have this really strange feeling, and
I think it concerns us. Maybe we shouldn't go to
Central Perk tonight." "Oh,
come on," said Ross. "You can't expect us to use
your feelings as the basis for making a rational
decision. Stuff like that just doesn't happen. I'm
going ahead, anyway." He
set off decisively, followed by Chandler and Monica.
Joey hesitated and looked at Phoebe. "Come on,
Pheebs," he pleaded. "It won't be the same without
you." Phoebe
shook her head and looked mulish. "No. The feeling's
getting stronger all the time. If you're smart,
you'll stay with me." "Well,
I'm staying," said Rachel. "I've had enough
of Ross in his Mr. Scientist mood." "Come
along, you guys," yelled Monica from the corner.
Joey looked from one group to the other, agonised at
having to make a decision, then waved. "I stay
here," he said firmly. "Great,"
said Phoebe. "Looks like we finally got our own
gang. So what shall we do?" Before
either of the others could reply, they heard a
strange noise from round the corner, like a shout.
"Hey, what was that? Sounded like Chandler!" cried
Joey, and he set off for the corner at a run, with
Phoebe and Rachel close behind. But when they
rounded the corner there was nothing to be seen, nor
were their friends visible in Central Perk. "Where
did they go?" said Joey, and then, before the
horrified gaze of Phoebe and Rachel, he disappeared
into thin air. They barely had time to cry out when
an invisible force seized them too, and they felt as
if they were being pulled off their feet and
stretched, while everything in front of them first
gained a multicoloured halo, then disappeared into
blackness. It was not painful, but completely
disorienting, so that when their feet seemed to
touch solid ground again, they staggered and
clutched each other tightly. When
their vision cleared, they looked at each other in
amazement, for their dress had changed completely,
to something that Phoebe thought would be quite
appropriate for a Hercules or Xena
episode, but was completely out of place for modern
New York – not that they appeared to be in New York
now. Rachel was wearing a leather outfit over a
short brown tunic, leaving her upper arms and knees
bare; from a belt at the waist hung a pouch and –
Phoebe blinked – what looked like a short sword.
Phoebe herself was wearing a kind of shirt and
trousers of coarse patterned cloth, and stitched
hide shoes that looked crude beside Rachel's neat
sandals, and from her belt hung a long knife and
a pouch. Even their hair had changed: hers was now
tied back in a ponytail, while Rachel's had turned
red, the way she had worn it for a while, and fanned
out around her neck and shoulders. "What
in the world has happened to us?" said Rachel,
almost in a whisper. "I
don't think we're in Kansas any more," said Phoebe.
The buildings around them looked to be of adobe,
mostly low, with wood fittings; some had signs
outside that she could read. "Where's
Joey?" cried Rachel, sounding panicky. "Where are
the others? Oh, Phoebe, what are we going to do?" Phoebe
gave her a comforting hug, though she felt a little
unnerved herself. But she also felt strengthened by
the knowledge that she had been vindicated: weird
stuff did
happen. She was looking forward to confronting Ross
over this, when they found him. "Let's
keep calm," she said. "Ten to one they are somewhere
around here. We just have to look for them. When we
are all together we can figure out what happened and
what, if anything, we can do about it. For my money,
we have landed in the past somehow. Maybe, we'll go
back after a while. At least, that's what the SF I
read suggests would happen." Rachel
did not look very reassured. "But we've got weapons!"
she wailed. "This could be dangerous." ----- Joey
landed on his feet, but for a moment everything was
spinning in front of his eyes and he had to shut
them. When he looked again, everything had changed,
even – he looked himself over – his clothes. He was
wearing some kind of long shirt, belted at the
waist. Apart from sandals, that was about it, and
everything was even more beat up than his regular
stuff. At least it was a hot day. He looked around:
where were the others, and where was this? It looked
like some little Mexican town from a Western movie,
but he could read the signs. He could see one in the
distance, The Gold Bosom: that looked promising.
But, he thought suddenly, what was he going to do
for dough? He had not started out with much, and
even that might have gone, since he had no pockets.
But there was some kind of pouch thing on his belt:
opening it, he found a few small coins, all brown –
he didn't recognise them, but he guessed they
wouldn't get him far. "Short
of dough, Shamus?" came a deep, rather
foreign-sounding female voice, along with a slap on
the shoulder. "I buy you a drink, maybe?" Turning,
he saw a large woman smiling at him, a rather muscly
but not unattractive blonde, who was wearing a
sword, it looked like. As he took her in, she peered
at him. "Say,
you're not Shamus," she said in a puzzled voice. "No,
I'm Joey," he said, and flashed her his best grin.
"But could I have Shamus's drink?" The
woman blinked, then smiled. "Well, if you're not
Shamus, you look like you could be his brother … but
younger and prettier. Come on, I buy you a drink
anyways." She put her arm through his. "So, you're
Joey, eh? Me, I'm Hanufa." He
grinned again. "So, how you doin'?" Hanufa
stopped dead and stared at him. She seemed to flush
a little, and moistened her lips. "You know," she
said, "Somehow I don't want a drink just yet, I
think. I want … something else first." "Fine
with me," said Joey happily. "You got a room?" ----- Olaf
the Storyteller was sitting in Loud Lilina's over an
early drink, just after she'd opened again following
her afternoon break, and thinking of not much, as he
liked to put it, when suddenly two guys and a doll
walked in very slowly, as if they had never entered
such a place before. In fact, this seemed quite a
likely possibility, since they were all dressed up
like Rich Hill folks, and at first he thought one
guy and the doll belonged to the Patroma family, for
they had that look about them, while the other guy
resembled Avidius Tiro at first glance. This was so
surprising that he took a moment to notice that they
were not displaying any of the self-confidence that
you would expect of such people, but huddled
together, looking about and whispering. Finally
Lilina spoke up. "Can I get you something, sirs and
lady?" she said in a most polite tone, evidently
thinking that they smelled like dough. The
guy who looked like Avidius Tiro said, "Well, ah, do
you have any coffee?" "Not
something I ever hear of," said Lilina. "Beer, wine,
mead, even spirits I can do." "Beer,"
said the doll in a decided voice. "Beer is just what
I need." "But
how are we going to pay?" Olaf heard the guy mutter. "No
problem," said the dark guy, who looked like her
brother. "Look, there are coins in this purse,
though I don't recognise any of them." Then
Lilina set the beers on the bar and said, "That will
be three silvers," which indicated to Olaf that she
took them for suckers, since this was gross
overcharging, even for her best beer. The dark guy
forked over three Lunars without complaint, so maybe
she was right, at that. Then he and the other guy
took the beers over to a table where the doll had
taken a seat, after giving the stool a thorough wipe
with her sleeve. She held up her hand and would not
let them put the beers down until she had wiped the
table also. "This place is filthy,"
Olaf heard her hiss at them, but they just shrugged.
"Dirt is the least of our worries," said the dark
guy. Then
they all took a pull, and made it quite clear by
their expressions that they did not like it at all.
"This is beer?"
said the doll in a disgusted voice, loud enough for
everyone to hear, as she slammed the mug down. "My
best," said Loud Lilina, sounding rather hurt.
"Perhaps my lady would prefer wine?" she added, in a
way that Olaf recognised as indicating that she
might be about to blow. Clearly the guys recognised
this too, for they hastily took another pull. "It
kind of grows on you," said the dark guy, and the
other nodded. This was clearly not his true opinion,
but it calmed Lilina down. She leaned on the bar and
looked at them. "You're
strangers in town?" she said. "We
are," said the dark guy. "In fact, we would
appreciate knowing just where we are, for we arrived
here in a way that I do not understand." "You
are in the city of Pavis," said Lilina proudly. "You
are not related to the Patromas? You sure look like
them." "No,"
said the dark guy. "I am Ross Gella, and this is my
sister Monica, and this is Chandlabing." Olaf
had to use considerable will-power to refrain from
laughing, and Lilina did not even try; she let out a
great cackle. This seemed to burn up Chandlabing,
but he did not protest. However,
the doll called Monica looked really mad. "I see
nothing to laugh at," she said, with plenty of frost
in her tone. "Well,
my lady, you have to take your laughs where you can
find them in this burg," said Lilina. "Your parents
must be real jokers, eh, mister Chandlabing?" and
she cackled again. "Oh
yes, a laugh a minute," he said, pulling a face.
"But enough of this sophisticated badinage. We need
more information. Just whereabouts is Pavis, and
what year is it, and all that?" Lilina
scratched her head. "I never pay too much attention
to the year," she said, "and I do not know how to
explain where Pavis is. Olaf, help me out here." They
all turned to Olaf, who had no idea what year it was
either, but he wanted to be helpful. These people
looked as if they had significant dough, a type he
was always ready to help, and so he said, after a
moment's thought, "The year I do not know, but I can
tell you that Pavis is on the Zola Fel river, on the
eastern edge of the Plaines of Prax, and we are now
ruled by the great and glorious Empire of the Red
Moon. Is this any help?" The
other two looked at Ross Gella, who shook his head.
"I do not recognise any of these names," he said.
"So we still do not know where we are, or when."
They looked very down, so Olaf decided to play a
hunch that he had been developing. "Do you know a
person called Redfox?" he said. "She arrives here
claiming to be from somewhere that no one ever hears
of, although she can speak like us, just the way you
are doing." "No,
we don't know Redfox," said Ross Gella. "But what
you say is interesting. Please accept our
hospitality and tell us more." "You
can have my beer," said Monica, pushing it across
the table as Olaf moved over to them. Ross Gella
looked at her reproachfully and signalled to Lilina
for another, which Olaf heartily approved of, but he
decided to take Monica's also, for she had really
drunk very little of it and it would be a shame to
let it go to waste. Then he began on the story of
Redfox, which they listened to with much interest,
but when he mentioned a healing spell Ross Gella
stopped him. "A
spell?" he said. "You mean, like magic? You have
magic here?" "Certainly,"
said Olaf in surprise. "Do you not have magic where
you come from?" The
other two shook their heads, but Ross Gella looked
thoughtful. "We have stuff that you would think is
magic," he said, and then he said to the others,
sounding like a Sage, "Arthur C. Clarke said once,
any sufficiently advanced technology is
indistinguishable from magic." Their expressions
suggested that they heard this kind of stuff from
him all the time and it did not impress them. "If
you have spells that actually work," he said to
Olaf, "we are a long way
from home." Just
then, Olaf saw Hanufa walk in with a guy who looked
very like Sweet-Talking Shamus, except that he was
younger and not so experienced-looking. Hanufa was
all over him, so Olaf could guess what they had just
been up to. The strangers jumped up excitedly and
hugged him. "Boy,
am I glad to see you," he said. "I was
afraid I was here on my own. Oh, this is Hanufa." "Pleased
to meet you," said Hanufa, looking at their finery
in an awestruck way. As
they began to sit down together, Chandlabing smiled
at the new guy and said, "How do you do it, Joe? You
haven't been here two minutes, and already you've
hooked up with someone." "It's
his only talent," growled Ross Gella. "Joey, where
are Raychul and Feebee?" "Well,
they were right behind me," said Joey. "So I guess
they're somewhere around here too, but maybe they
will have changed the way we have." "You
will have a beer now, Joey?" said Hanufa. "It is
what I like to drink myself." "Sure,"
he said, and Hanufa ordered two. Olaf noticed that
Monica was watching carefully as she paid for them,
and seemed annoyed, muttering something to
Chandlabing about their having been overcharged, but
he just shrugged and said, "Let it go. We don't want
any trouble, and it's not as if we're going to buy
any more." Hanufa
brought the beers over and downed half of hers, the
way she always did with the first one. Joey took a
good pull at his also, and his eyes practically
bulged out. "Wow!" he said. "That has a kick!" Lilina,
who had been looking at him appreciatively, growled,
"At least
some folks appreciate good beer. The next
one's on me, Joey." Olaf
saw Chandlabing roll his eyes. "Every time," he
muttered. "Every single goddam time." ----- "Well,
I don't think we're going to find them by walking
around," said Rachel grumpily. She had accepted
Phoebe's assurance that she could protect them in
any trouble, but she still felt very uneasy in this
place. Not only was it hot and dirty, the few people
they saw kept giving them strange looks. One had
even stopped and begun to say something, then looked
closer, shaken his head, and walked off. "Can
you think of a better plan?" said Phoebe. "This
place isn't so big. Surely we must come on them
soon." "They
could be walking around just ahead of us," said
Rachel disspiritedly. "By the way, have you noticed
how people look at us?" "Yes,
as if they think we're people they know," said
Phoebe. Just
then someone approached them who looked strange even
by the standards of this place. She looked most like
some weird Goth type, with very skimpy black
clothing, a nose-ring and tattoos, but she had her
head shaved apart from a mohican of blood-red locks
standing up straight down the middle. Her arms were
scarred and muscly, and she carried a sword. "Is
that you, Lucilla?" she said, peering at Rachel. "I
thought for a moment it was Griselda, but you are
too tall." "No,
I am not Lucilla, I am Rachel Green," said Rachel
snappily. "I don't know Lucilla, or Griselda
either." "Well,
you look very like them," said the Goth. "You must
be strangers here. Anyone who has been here more
than a day knows about Griselda," she added, in a
way that suggested that she did not care for
Griselda much. "We
certainly are strangers," said Phoebe. "We don't
even know where we are, let alone how we got here." "Why,
you are in Pavis," said the Goth, acting rather
surprised. "And what do you mean, you don't know how
you got here?" Phoebe
tried to explain what had happened to them, with
Rachel's help, while the Goth listened attentively.
At the end she shook her head. "I heard that
something similar happened around Griselda a while
back. Perhaps she attracts people who look like her
in some magical way; it would be just like her. So
you are looking for your friends, eh? Maybe I can
help: I can show you every eating house and bar in
Pavis, if you think they might be in one of those." "That
sounds like a great idea," said Phoebe
enthusiastically. "Thank you very much, miss -?" "Call
me Red Hot," said the Goth, "and it will be my
pleasure," she added, with a strange smile that
Rachel did not feel happy about; but she recognised
that they needed any help they could get. ----- Monica
was finding it hard to conceal a growing sense of
irritation. Ross's point that it was best to sit
still and let Rachel and Phoebe come to them was
fair, she supposed, but instead of discussing what
they might do about their general situation, the
guys seemed perfectly happy to sit around drinking
the awful beer and chatting with the locals, of whom
there was an increasing number. This seemed a
popular bar with people of a certain kind. Nobody
who had come in looked very respectable, and several
carried weapons, like this Elsa from Adari, a
hard-looking woman who was gazing at Joey in a very
predatory way, ignoring the hostile glances that she
was receiving from Hanufa. Naturally, Joey was
having a great time. The fact that his female
admirers were carrying weapons did not seem to
bother him in the least, but he was mostly talking
to a man everyone called Shamus, who could have been
his older brother and evidently fancied himself as a
lady-killer. He
certainly had a rough charm, but after intercepting
one of Ross's glares, he had not tried anything on
with her. Joey
and Shamus suddenly let out a great roar of
laughter, in which Ross joined and then, rather less
easily, Chandler. Without meaning to, Monica gave
out a great sigh. A smallish dark woman sitting
nearby leaned across. "Don't
be too hard on your menfolk," she said quietly.
"They've had a bad scare, and they don't know what
to do, though I bet they're racking their brains to
think of something, at least Ross and Chandla are.
It seems to me there's nothing you can do, in fact,
except wait for whatever brought you here to take
you back." "You
believe us, then?" said Monica, warming to her
instantly. "Oh
yes," the other said. "When I was in the employ of
the Patromas, the family that you and your brother
so much resemble, I heard some very strange things.
I am Hilda, by the way." Monica
held out her hand. "It's good to meet one sensible
person." Hilda
took her hand and grinned. "Not as sensible as all
that," she said, "or I would not be adventuring for
a living. But it beats working as a tied servant,
which is what I was." "How
did you get away?" asked Monica, intrigued. "Well,
it was Griselda who helped me …" Hilda began. "Why,
there she is now." Monica
turned to see a very small red-headed woman enter
the bar. She was dressed quite simply in a tunic and
leathers, with some jewellery here and there, and
she too carried a sword, although hers was notably
short. She was extremely attractive, with a curious
look of Rachel about her, but she was clearly in a
bad mood, although she acknowledged various
greetings in a queenly sort of way. After looking
around, she came over to Hilda. "I
just heard that there is another lookalike of mine
going about Pavis," she said. "Have you seen or
heard anything?" Hilda
shook her head. "Absolutely not. But if you sit
around here she is bound to show up, so why not sit
down and relax and hear the amazing story that
Monica here has to tell?" Griselda
smiled rather reluctantly and pulled up a stool.
"It's all very well for you, Hilda. Nobody goes
around impersonating you." "Ah,
but then I'm not famous," said Hilda, with a glint
in her eye. "Just as well too, or the Patromas would
be after my hide." Griselda
laughed out loud and shook her head. "Best to keep
quiet about that. You never know who might be
listening." Just
then Ross and Chandler jumped to their feet with
glad cries of "Rachel! Phoebe!" To her immense
relief, Monica saw her friends coming into the bar,
accompanied by a strange-looking woman who wore her
hair in a sort of red cock's comb on the top of her
head. As she pushed forward to hug them, Monica
noticed to her surprise that Rachel was dressed very
like Griselda, while Phoebe looked more like the
average person around here. "Oh
God, I'm
so glad to see you guys!" cried Rachel, with tears
in her eyes. ----- "Very
touching, I'm sure," came an angry voice, and they
turned to see Griselda on her feet, hands on hips,
glaring at Rachel. "But I have a word or two I want
to say to you, miss Aims-to-look-like-me." Rachel
was terrified. She had never seen anyone look as
fierce as this small woman whose dress was so very
like hers, only rather better quality, and she felt
quite unable to speak. "Once
before," said the woman, "I had this problem. Maybe
I will have to deal with you a bit more severely
than I did with the other, so that word gets out." "I
am not doing this on purpose," Rachel managed to
stammer. "I found myself like this when I came here.
I don't even know who you are." If
anything, this seemed to infuriate the small woman
further. "Then why would you be dressed like that?" she
snarled. "It's my style; everyone knows that." "Griselda,
you don't understand," put in a dark woman sitting
near her. "These people – " "Be
quiet, Hilda," snapped Griselda, and Hilda stopped
talking, though she did not look happy about it. Griselda
advanced a step, and everyone withdrew except Rachel
and her friends. "Look,"
said Ross, stepping forward, "we are not responsible
for the way we look. Our clothes were changed into
this gear when we got here." "Shut
it!" hissed Griselda, whipping out a dagger. "I have
no quarrel with you others. Just let me deal with
her." "You'll
have to come through me first!" cried Phoebe,
pulling her knife and sinking into a
practised-looking knife-fighter's crouch. Griselda
looked up at her. "Why do you look like Bella? What
is going on here?" she almost screamed, then made a
lightning move. The knife clattered to the floor and
Phoebe clutched a bleeding wrist. "I'm serious
about this!" Griselda yelled. "Now step aside, you
others. Don't worry, I won't kill her, just mark her
a little." "No way," growled Ross,
taking one of his martial arts poses, while Monica
stood next to him, her fists up, looking remarkably
fierce, and Chandler and Joey took position beside
them, scared but determined; even Phoebe fell in
behind them, trying to wrap something round her
wrist. Rachel felt herself tearing up at her
friends' complete readiness to defend her, and told
herself fiercely that she must stop being such a
wuss. A sense of fury began to fill her – fury at
the situation that they had been put in, for no
fault of their own, fury at Griselda, who would not
give them a chance to explain themselves.
Remembering how she had dealt with Joey's obnoxious
girlfriend Katie who would keep
hitting people, she pushed between Ross and Monica
and came nose to nose with Griselda, who seemed a
bit taken aback. "Will you quit bullying?"
Rachel yelled and kicked her as hard as she could on
the ankle. With a cry of pain Griselda dropped her
dagger and fell. There was a gasp all around, and
then Red Hot, who was near the front, began to
laugh. Understanding came to Rachel, and she rounded
on her. "You set this whole thing up, you bitch!" she
shouted, and drove both fists as hard as she could
into Red Hot's stomach. Taken by surprise in the
middle of her laugh, Red Hot collapsed to the floor,
gasping for breath. By now almost unable to see for
rage, Rachel pulled her sword, squared off with her
hands clamped on the hilt, and screamed, "Anyone else want
some?" "No swords!" yelled the
fat woman behind the bar, and others repeated it,
while her friends called urgently, "Rachel, it's
okay," and "Calm down". Then Hilda came forward
and gently unlaced Rachel's fingers from the
sword-hilt. "No need for that," she said calmly. "No
one here will do you harm." "I wouldn't be so sure
of that," growled Griselda from a stool, where she
was sitting nursing her ankle and glowering at
Rachel. "Just wait till I get this healed," and she
began muttering to herself. "No, Griselda, I cannot
let you do this," said Hilda. "You are not giving
these people a chance to explain themselves, but
there is clearly magic involved. This must be why
they all look like people here, and my belief is,
they came the same way Redfox did." Before Griselda could
reply, two big women wearing swords stepped forward,
grim-faced. "We stand with Hilda here," said one.
"No one hurts Joey or a friend of his." One or two
other women stepped forward also, and there was a
murmur round the bar that seemed approving. Griselda looked
thoughtful, and then nodded. "Okay," she said, and
stood up easily, as if she'd never been kicked.
"What you say does indeed sound possible. I had
forgotten Redfox. So, I apologise. Here, you that
looks like my cousin Bella, I can fix that wrist for
you." Phoebe came forward
hesitantly, and Griselda took hold of her wrist and
muttered over it as she had over her own ankle. A
smile spread across Phoebe's face. "Wow!" she said.
"I like
this place. How do I learn to do stuff like that?"
This caused some laughter, which died away as Red
Hot got to her feet, evidently still in pain. "I
notice no one cares about my stomach," she growled. "No, and why should
we?" snapped Hilda, as she turned on Red Hot. "I
believe Raychul here has it right: you brought her
and Griselda together deliberately, hoping for a
fight. Now quit it, or we'll all take a hand, eh?"
The other women grunted agreement, and Griselda said
lightly, "I might even get involved myself." Red Hot
scowled, spat on the floor and pushed her way out. Griselda stepped up to
Rachel and held out her hand. "No hard feelings,"
she said, with a smile. "That was neatly done, and I
especially owe you for belting out Red Hot. I've
been wanting to do that for a long time, but we
don't fist-fight much here." "I couldn't do it
again," Rachel admitted, taking her hand. "I was
just so angry."
Getting a close look at Griselda, she realised how
small she was – somehow she seemed able to project a
bigger impression of herself – and also how
attractive, with very blue eyes that were now
looking at her gravely. After a moment, Griselda
gave a little laugh, released her hand, and said,
"Anger helps sometimes. You want a drink?" Behind
her back Monica made violent gestures suggesting
that this was not a good idea, but Rachel ignored
her. She had no wish to risk offending Griselda, now
that they had a chance to be on good terms. "Why
not?" she said. "A little wine, perhaps?" Once they were all
settled down again, Monica looked around in dismay.
Griselda and Rachel were chatting easily, Phoebe and
the guys were the centre of attention from most of
the rest of the bar, who were vocally admiring their
bravery – everyone was having a good time except
her. Someone patted her on the knee. She turned to
see Hilda, looking sympathetic and holding out a
small mug. "Try this," she said.
"It tastes a lot better than the beer." Monica
sampled it cautiously and found it to be a quite
drinkable wine. "You looked good in
there," said Hilda. "You must love Raychul very
much, to be ready to fight for her like that." Monica smiled. "We have
been best friends since we were kids," she said.
"But I'm glad I didn't have to fight, in the end.
Wasn't Rachel amazing?" Hilda grinned. "The
bravery of ignorance," she said. "Griselda and Red
Hot are the two toughest fighters in Pavis, you
know. But it was bravery nonetheless." She peered at
Monica. "You don't look too happy." "I just want to go
home," said Monica. "We could be a lot worse off
here, I can see that, and it would be nice to get to
know you, but it's not home!" Suddenly Phoebe jumped
up. "Ooh, ooh, I'm getting that feeling again," she
cried, "Guys, get together, or we may be scattered
all over New York." Slapping Hilda on the
shoulder and saying "Thanks for everything," Monica
ran to Phoebe. "Bye, Griselda," cried Rachel, "Wish
I could stay," and then, as they all clung to each
other, the amazed faces of Lilina's customers began
to whirl round them and then disappeared in
blackness. After a long moment, they landed with a
bump, back on the corner near Central Perk and in
their normal clothes again, as they saw when they
opened their eyes. It was now nearly dark. "Oh,
thank God!" cried Monica, and burst into tears. They
had just finished calming her down when Rachel said,
"I want you guys to know that you are the best … the
best …" and then she broke down and had to be
comforted too. "Well, Rach, you were
pretty impressive in there," said Ross. "That is the
closest I have ever seen to a genuine old-style
battle rage." "I wish we could have
stayed longer," said Phoebe wistfully. "No, you don't!" cried
Monica. "No, she doesn't!" she yelled at the sky. "I
want to stay here where it's safe." "Okay, nobody move and
nobody will get hurt. Just hand us your money," said
a voice, and they turned to see themselves
half-surrounded by three punk kids with knives. "The hell with that!"
yelled Rachel, charging straight at one swinging her
long-stringed purse, which got him in the eye and
made him jump back, and then turning and kicking out
at another. Her eyes alight, Monica threw a fist at
this one and hit him hard on the shoulder, sending
him staggering away. "Wahoo!" yelled Phoebe, and
went for the third with her hands in claws and her
teeth bared, but he was already running, and so were
the other two a second later. Delighted with their
success, they high-fived each other, while the guys
and various onlookers applauded. "That was great, Rach,"
said Ross, "but foolhardy. You've got to be more
careful; you must practise unagi." "Unagi, hell! Do you
know who I downed back there in Pavis?" said Rachel.
"Only the two toughest broads in the whole damn
town, so Griselda told me. I am the greatest!" She
did a little dance of triumph, twirling her purse. "Yes, sweetie," said
Monica. "That's what Hilda told me too. But you took
them by surprise, and those punks too. You can't
always rely on that." "Okay," said Rachel,
calming down a little. "But I'm gonna take martial
arts lessons. I am so ready
for it now." "Yay!" cried Phoebe.
"I'll join you." "Me too!" said Monica
enthusiastically. "And you'll all take
showers together afterwards, right?" said Joey. "Joey!" they all cried,
and Rachel held up a fist. "You want some of this?"
Joey pretended to cower away, and they all went over
to Central Perk, talking happily ----- In Loud Lilina's, those
left behind looked at each other glumly. "Damn," said Griselda.
"I was really coming to like that Raychul doll." She
drained her mug and banged it down with what seemed
like unnecessary force. Hilda said, "And I
liked Monica." "And I liked Joey,"
sighed Hanufa, and Elsa, Lilina, and all the other
women in the room sighed too. "They were all good
kids," said Shamus. "A bit green, mind." "Green!" cried
Griselda. "They were positively viridian! I doubt if
any except Feebee had held a weapon before in their
lives. But they were game, and that Raychul surely
made her play, didn't she?" They all nodded or
said, "Sure," but with less conviction than they
might have done. "She took you by
surprise," said Shamus. "She'd never have downed you
otherwise." "She was bigger than
you," said Hanufa. "That gave her an advantage." "Anyway, you're much
prettier than she is," said Olaf. Griselda chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't need to worry; I am not too bothered about losing to one lucky kick. And wasn't it great to see Red Hot fold up? Let's have another round on that." Laughing, they downed their beers and lined up at the bar |
© 2002 Oliver Dickinson
"Glorantha, RuneQuest and
HeroQuest are trademarks of Moon Design Publications and
used with their permission."
updated 2nd October 2017