Jason E Mohler

Once upon a time, all of the best lies began with once upon a time. These days it's either my fellow Americans, my cousin Bobby said, or no shit, there I was. But some of you are Canadian, and I don't have a Cousin Bobby, so I guess it's no shit for me.

 

No shit, there I was, standing beneath the hot August sun on the shores of the Marias River, staring down my sister. It wasn't just the two of us, though; she had her friends and I had mine, ten to a side, preparing to do battle.

 

For chocolate.

 

Not just any chocolate, though. This was the chocolate of the gods, so divine that it was outlawed and had to be smuggled into the kingdom.

 

Who ever heard of chocolate being banned because it was a choking hazard anyways? That's like saying you can't have a glass of water because you could drown.

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But back to my story.

 

We watched each other as our armies took the field and waited for the marshals to call lay on. The command was given, and we slowly drew forward. My dear little sister danced behind her line ducking beneath the swords and shields of her comrades as they moved forward, trying to decide who was most deserving of an arrow while I loomed behind mine, choosing who would taste my spear first. My sister even tossed a few arrows our way as we closed the distance, but to no avail; my fellow warriors easily batted them aside. Slowly, steadily, we drew together until - at last - the blade of a master of some repute on my sister's side shot forward and was caught at the last moment by my comrade and the battle was on. We began to break up into pairs and threesomes, each side trying to best the other.

 

The command was given, and we slowly drew forward. My sister even tossed a few arrows our way, but to no avail; my fellow warriors easily batted them aside. Slowly, steadily, we drew together until - at last - the blade of a master of some repute on my sister's side shot forward and was caught at the last moment by my comrade and the battle was on. We began to break up into pairs and threesomes, each side trying to best the other.

 

There was chocolate on the line, after all.

 

I say we, but this was the first appearance of both archers and spearmen on this particular field and my sister and I found ourselves alone, undefended among the hordes of swords, daggers, and shields. My sister was having a blast, still ducking and weaving and sending her arrows at anyone dumb enough to forget her. I was doing the same, finding enemies who'd forgotten my spear reached more than two yards past the longest sword on the field and giving them the vaunted Spanish Kiss.

 

Basically, I booped their snoots.

 

My sister didn't seem to appreciate the attention I was giving her friends, though, and sent an arrow my way. Given the differences in our statures, it flew low and, having experienced an arrow to the knee before, I swatted it out of the sky with the shaft of my spear before it could reach its target. She'd done her job, though; her attack distracted me and, while saving one leg, I found my other pierced by a yard of steel.

 

I don't know how many of you have tried to fight with a spear from your knees, but it's... challenging.

 

And that was before another sword found my arm.

 

Yeah, that sucked.

 

And, in spite of my best attempt at armchair jousting, I died.

 

"No fair! You had the high ground!" I cried when the rest of my army joined me in Valhalla, and I was met with a sympathetic raspberry from my dear little sister.

 

My complaints weren't for naught, though, and after some discussion, the marshals of the field decided the contest would be the best two out of three. The two armies took the field again, but this time we had the high ground. This battle began much as the last had, although this time they decided to be sneaky.

 

Or at least tried to be.

 

My sister led right off with another arrow to my knee, but I dodged it with a simple side-step, all the while watching a master whose bulk was as wide-spread as his repute tried to flank us.

 

Here's a tip: if you're going to send someone to sneak behind the lines, don't send the fat guy.

 

I easily caught him out of the corner of my eye and just as easily caught the center of his belly with the tip of my spear.

 

Unfortunately, my sister finally managed to put an arrow in someone while I was otherwise occupied and the whip-thin master who fought by my side found himself on his knees.

 

I knew exactly what to do, though. I'd trained for this very situation, and I stepped behind him, using what little meat he had - and his sword - to protect my legs from my sister.

 

I probably should have worried more about the half-dozen remaining swords than her few arrows, though. After booping a few more snoots, I felt the unmistakable touch of steel on my leg and, with a jovial curse or two, fell behind my living shield. I managed to introduce one last warrior to the Spanish kiss before my sister finally landed a hit, booping my snoot and leaving me dead where I lay.

 

Not that it mattered. My comrades held the field in the end, leaving the two armies with a victory apiece.

 

For our final battle, we straddled the hillside, blessing and cursing each army with both the high and the low ground. We fell into the fight and this time I had but a single target; my dear, caring little sister. I would return the favor of the arrow she'd gifted me with the previous battle and present to her my prized spear.

 

In the face.

 

Her army must have realized my intentions, for I found the brunt of her companions between me and my target. No sword touched me this time as my companions in battle and I slowly whittled away at their numbers. The losses weren't one-sided though, and my comrades died just as my sister's did until only the two of us stood the field, with but one thing on our minds.

 

She'd loosed the last of her arrows during the melee and now drew her sword as the two of us began circling before the kings and queens of the armies, testing each other as we sought the final prize.

 

Chocolate.

 

If any of you have ever met my sister, you know she's not exactly a towering presence and, after piercing my thigh - I've really got to work on my low parries - we stood (knelt) eye-to-eye. With a final flourishing spin, she knocked my spear aside and stepped forward, laying her sword against my neck.

 

But was I done? Hell no. I reached behind me and...

 

Okay, yeah, I was done. She had me. Before my hand even touched the dagger nestled against my back, she drew her sword across my neck, leaving me a head shorter and her army with the greatest prize of all.

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And teaching us all a valuable lesson in the process:

 

Never get between a woman and her chocolate.

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Author’s Note

 

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Believe it or not, The Best Lies is a true story, even the part about the bootleg chocolate. The battle took place at an historical recreation event called Whipping Winds hosted by the Society for Creative Anachronism in August 2022 outside of Shelby, Montana.

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