Free Lesser Gods by Duncan Long Page B

making my armor from a much earlier period a bit of a mystery. In front of the house, under a large oak, was a dining table set haphazardly with broken crockery lying around it. This all took second place to the creatures sitting at the table. The man-sized rabbit I recognized as the March Hare. The wild-eyed little man next to him with the tall headgear had to be the Mad Hatter.
    Which one was Huntington?
    Or was he even here?
    They noisily toasted themselves, oblivious to the small furry creature lying in a saucer between them.
    “Sleeping on a dish must be very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,” the young lady who materialized next to me said. “Don’t you think?”
    “Yeah,” I said, eyeing her closely for some hint if she might be Huntington. There was no resemblance at all to his picture or to the last incarnation I’d just seen him in. But I’d been in enough SupeR-Gs to know that he might be a cross player. It would be a mistake to assume he could only be one of the male players. So, for all I knew, he was standing right next to me.
    Or not.
    He could be anyone or anything. He might be the oak tree, for all I knew. Finding him was going to get tricky. Of course if it was easy, then Death wouldn’t have hired me and I’d be dead.
    Time to quit complaining.
    The young lady spoke again, “I said, ‘Sleeping on a dish must be very uncomfortable for the Dormouse. Don’t you think?”
    “Uh, yes,” I muttered.
    “I guess Dormouse is asleep,” Alice continued. “I suppose it doesn’t mind. Come on let’s join them.” She took my hand in her cool grip and pulled me along toward the expansive table.
    Despite the length of the table, the Dormouse, Hatter, and Hare were crowded together at one corner of it.
    “No room,” the Hatter and Hare cried as Alice and I approached.
    “There’s plenty of room,” Alice insisted, sitting down in a large armchair at one end of the table. She pulled me down into the chair beside her where I sat with the clang and clatter of armor.
    “Who are you supposed to be,” the Hatter demanded. “You’re not a part of this story. You must be in the wrong SupeR-G.”
    “There’s always room for another player,” Alice said. Then, winking at me she said in a low voice, “Besides, I have taken a fancy to him. I wonder what he has hidden under that oversized codpiece.”
    Normally I’m as risqué as the next guy, but I felt a blush creep up my neck from Alice’s remark. Hearing a demure young lady make lurid suggestions seemed obscene and had taken me off guard.
    “Who are you,” the Hatter demanded of me again.
    “I’m the, uh, White Knight,” I mumbled.
    “Have some wine,” the March Hare said before the Hatter could say anything else to me.
    Alice glanced round the table. “I don’t see any wine.”
    “There isn’t any,” the March Hare replied.
    “Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,” Alice said, trying her best to appear angry while glancing my way to be sure I was watching her.
    “It wasn’t very civil of you to bring this joker to our party without being invited,” the March Hare countered.
    “Let’s get naked,” the Hatter said.
    “Out of character,” the Dormouse protested, suddenly sitting up, wide awake. He squinted at me a moment and then scuttled off the table and fell onto a chair with a loud plunk. His disembodied voice rose from behind the tablecloth. “We’ve got to stay in character if this is going to be any fun. And this is supposed to be a children’s story. No lewd comments, please.”
    “It’s her fault for bringing an extra guest,” the Hatter cried.
    “I didn’t know it was your place to decide,” Alice said. “Besides, the table’s laid for a great many more than three people.” She looked me in the eye when she said laid, leaving no chance for me to miss her double entendre.
    “Your hair wants cutting,” the Hatter said, fingering a wicked-looking dagger that somehow had been hidden in his jacket.