Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) (13 page)

Tolivar looked down at his hands, his face a mask of worry.

“Surely there’s a way we can protect Samson,” Djeri said, trying to inject some reason into the discussion. “Perhaps he can hang back if we need to come into contact with the smugglers.”

Tarah stood and leaned forward with her palms on the table, facing Bettie. “Just what are you trying to do here?”

Bettie pursed her lips, her eyes flashing with anger. “I’m protectin’ my dag-blamed family is what I’m doing. I feel bad for your situation, girl. I do, but we can’t upend our lives every time someone needs help. We’ll do what we can, but in this case you’re asking too much!”

Tarah looked to Tolivar, pleadingly, “Please, Tolivar. We need you.”

Tolivar’s eyes met her for a brief moment, then he looked away. When he spoke, his voice was tinged with regret. “She’s right. I can’t go.”

“Come on!” said Helmet Jan.

“The last time I went to battle I nearly lost myself,” he said. “I’m not ready for this yet. Maybe I will be in time, but not yet. And I can’t put Samson in danger either. I’m sorry. I really am. I want to help, but . . .”

“I’ll go,” said Willum, drawing everyone’s attention back.

“But you just came back home,” said Miss Becca, one hand going to her mouth.

“The others can’t go, but I can,” he said. “Sorry, Becca. I still work for the academy and they need my help. Besides, as Theodore is enthusiastically pointing out to me right now no one knows the mind of a gnome better than an imp.”

“I’ll go too,” said Benjo.

“No, son,” Becca replied.

The big man stood. “I’m sorry I’m gonna miss your wedding, Bettie, but with Tolivar and Samson staying behind to oversee patrols I’m not really needed here.”

“What about the forge?” Bettie asked. “Me and Lenui will be leaving soon.”

“You know there’s two other men in the farmlands just as good with working metal as me,” Benjo replied. “They may not be as good with leatherwork, but I’ll be back once this rogue is safe.”

“But Benjo, you can’t leave me here,” Miss Becca said. The firm expression she’d worn earlier was gone, replaced by the beginnings of panic. “Remember what happened the last time you left?”

“This is different, mom,” Benjo said, his face reddening. “I’m different.”

“You gotta let him go, Becca,” said Bettie. “He’s a grown man.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Miss Becca exclaimed. “You got your family! You’re just starting out. I’ve lost two husbands. I’ve lost . . .” She brought her hand to her mouth, tears coming to her eyes as she turned and fled through the kitchen door.

“Aw, durn it!” Bettie’s shoulders sagged. “I gotta go after her. Here.” She leaned over the table and shoved the baby into Tarah’s arms. “You hold little Coalvin. I’ll be right back.”

Tarah watched the half-orc leave with wide eyes. “Wait! What am I supposed to do with this?” she looked down at the baby in her arms. She’d never held a baby before. It was so tiny and fragile. It looked up at her with curious eyes, its little toothless mouth open, its tongue moving in and out.

“So we came a full day out of our way just to gain two men?” said Lem the Whip.

“It would be worth it even if we just got Oddblade alone,” Djeri said, trying to put a positive spin on the situation.

They started to go over the mission plan, discussing supplies and strategy, but Tarah had trouble focusing with the baby in her arms. The thing was just so limp most of the time and when it did move, its movements were jerky and out of control. It shoved one hand in its mouth, while the other waved around in the air. As Tarah watched, the baby clutched at its own face, scratching itself with its sharp little nails.

“Hey-hey. Don’t do that, little guy,” she said as it scrunched its face up about to cry. She reached down and grasped its soft little hand.

The memories that surged through her mind at that moment were far different than those she had felt from Samson. The ancient centaur’s memories had flashed by, a thousand years of experiences flitting through her mind within seconds. The baby had been born just a few months ago and it had a fundamental lack of understanding about what was going on, which made its memories all the more vivid and intense.

First there was a strange memory of laying in the arms of a woman with wild eyes. She was raving, using words the baby’s underdeveloped ears could not understand and yet the crazed tone of her voice made it obvious that the woman was quite insane. Then the woman’s face was replaced by a nightmare. A reptilian face with cat-like eyes and sharp teeth looked down upon the child and kissed his face with its puffy lips and purring. The reptile’s face was eventually replaced by that of a man with kind eyes . . .

“You alright, Tarah?”

Djeri’s voice sounded like it was coming from miles away. Tarah blinked away the vision, her mind feeling like it was moving slow as mud, as she pulled her finger out of the baby’s hand. He had a tight grip.

“Tarah?” Djeri said.

“Hmm? Yeah,” Tarah said, shifting her gaze to the dwarf. The others were looking at her too. “What was the question?”

“We’re trying to decide when to leave. We’re pretty sure Blayne won’t be able to head to Alberri for a few more days yet with Shade stuck on the far side of the river. I’m of the opinion that we should stay the night and leave in the morning.”

“But I want to leave right away,” Tarah said, still shaking the baby’s muddled senses from her mind. It cooed at her, its tiny fingers grasping at the torn sleeves of her moonrat armor.

“We still need to stock up on supplies,” Djeri replied. “And Uncle Lenui says it’ll give him time to put a couple things together to help us against the smugglers.”

“I might be able to do you one better,” Lenny said.

“Just . . . Just give me a second,” Tarah said, standing. She couldn’t think straight with the baby in her arms. She walked around the table and approached Tolivar. She shoved the baby at him. “Here. You take him.”

“Me?” he said as she left it in his hands. “But why?”

“You’re his papa,” Tarah said in irritation. “I don’t know why Bettie gave him to me in the first place.”

“Whoa. Wait a second,” Tolivar said, holding the baby out before him. “I’m not Coalvin’s father.”

Tarah shrugged. “That’s not what the baby says.”

“He spoke to you?” he asked, looking at the baby with curiosity. Its little hand jerked, slapping his face.

“I think I’m just gonna stop touching people,” Tarah grumbled as she walked back around the table. Her magic better not be changing. What if she could never touch a person again without seeing their past flow by? The thought was shudder inducing.

Just before she sat down the front door opened again. A short, middle-aged man entered. He carried a spear and once the door shut behind him he leaned against it, breathing heavily. Instead of a winter jacket, he wore what looked like three or four woolen sweaters layered on top of one another.

“Hey, Earl,” said Benjo, turning in his seat to peer back at the man. “You’re back early. Weren’t you taking the southern route?”

Looking slightly flustered, he said, “Yeah. But I ran into someone on the road before I finished my route. I think he’s here to see Lenny and Bettie.”

“Us? Is he a messenger?” said Lenny.

The man scratched his head. “I don’t think so. At least I’ve never met a gnome messenger before. To tell you the truth I don’t know what he wants. He wasn’t making much sense.”

“Yer kiddin’. A gnome?” Lenny asked. Considering their current mission, mention of a gnome got everyone’s attention. “And he was asking for me?”

“You and Bettie,” Earl said again. “Or at least that’s what I think.”

The door to the kitchen opened and Bettie strode in. Her eyes were reddened as if she had been crying. She looked at Tolivar and he nodded towards Earl.

“Whaddya mean, you think? What did he say?” Lenny said to the man.

“Well, he says he’s looking for the ‘pretty lady’ and the ‘pretty dwarf’,” said Earl, looking embarrassed. “Now I don’t know about the ‘pretty’ part, but when he said lady and dwarf I thought of you two.”

“What’s that, Earl?” said Bettie with a warning tone. “You saying I ain’t pretty?”

Earl paled. “No, Bettie. Of course not. I mean, you’re beautiful, of course. I-I was talking about Lenny.”

“Durn right,” Lenny said with a nod.

“Wait a minute,” said Djeri, a suspicion growing in his mind. “Describe this gnome to me.”

“Uh, well he-. Wait, who are you?” Earl said.

“He’s Djeri the Looker,” said Helmet Jan.

He frowned at the woman. “I don’t know you either.”

“Dag-nab it, Earl,” Lenny snapped. “Just tell my nephew what he dag-gum wants to know.”

“Sheesh, Lenny!” Earl said, throwing up his hands. “Stop busting my face, I’m just doing like Benjo trained me,”

“Doing great, Earl!” said Benjo in approval. “Don’t you worry about him.”

Earl nodded, standing a little taller at the praise. “So this guy’s a gnome, like I said. Real tall and skinny. Floppy ears. Long nose. You know what a gnome looks like. Anyway, other than that, he’s wearing this yellow jacket thing and . . . he was acting real strange.”

“Did he give his name?” Djeri asked.

“I don’t know. It’s weird, but most of the stuff he said didn’t make much sense. I think he might be drunk or something,” Earl replied. “Either that or he’s just real stupid.”

“No way,” Tarah said, her eyes widening.

“Did he carry a long silver chain with him?” Djeri asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Earl said. “That was one of the crazy things. He had this chain with a steel ball on the end. He kept swinging it around while we walked. I was afraid he might put his eye out with that thing.”

Lenny cocked his head at Djeri. “You know this gnome, son?”

“We do,” Djeri replied. He and Tarah looked at each other, neither one knowing whether to be afraid or excited. “His name’s Cletus.”

Lenny, Bettie, and Tolivar stayed behind in the keep while Earl led the rest of them out of the gates to find the gnome. Not wanting to bring someone with behavior that bizarre inside, he’d left Cletus standing in the forest out of view of the keep. When the group arrived in the area, Cletus wasn’t there anymore.

“You’re sure he was right here?” Tarah asked the man.

“Well, yeah,” said Earl. He pointed to a spot just off the road next to a tall cedar. “When I left, he was standing right there. By that tree.”

“You all stay back. I don’t want you messing the track,” Tarah said walked over to the spot.

“Why did you leave him out in the trees instead of on the road?” Djeri asked.

Earl shrugged. “He was taking a pee at the time.”

“Yep,” Tarah said and squatted next to an icy wet patch of dirt at the base of the tree. She reached down and touched it. A series of disorganized thoughts passed through Tarah’s mind. Cletus’ thinking was difficult to process, his interest passing from subject to subject without much rhyme or reason. Only one thing kept him moving in the right direction.

“Mud, this guy’s mind is flighty,” she said, standing. She turned to find the others staring at her in distaste. “What?”

“You just touched that gnome’s pee,” said Benjo with a grimace.

Tarah wiped the wetness on her pants. “It’s a track. I wanted to know where he went.”

“But did you have to do that?” asked Helmet Jan. “Why didn’t you just touch his footprint?”

“Urine and scat are the best kinds of tracks if you want to know what someone’s been thinking,” Tarah explained. “The way my magic works if I touch a footprint I get a brief piece of thought; you know, just what my quarry was thinking when they left the track. But this,” she said, pointing to the wet spot. “This stuff was in his body for hours before he peed it out. I get a much bigger picture of what he’s thinking.”

“She’s got magic that lets her read piss?” Earl said, looking at them like they were crazy.

“Okay, Woodblade, your power’s looking less fun to me right now,” Benjo said.

Tarah sighed. “That does take some of the glamour out of it doesn’t it?”

Djeri chuckled. “So what did you learn, Tarah?”

She shrugged. “This gnome’s hard to understand. His thinking’s all over the place. The reason he’s not here is because within seconds after Earl left, he forgot he was supposed to wait. The only thing I know for sure is that he definitely came here looking for you and me. Our faces kept popping up in his thoughts.”

“Why, I wonder?” Djeri asked, scratching his head.

“Maybe he’ll tell us,” she said, reaching down to touch another track. “Looks like he returned to the road, following after Earl.”

“I didn’t see him,” Earl protested.

Tarah moved over to the road, frowning. “We stomped all over his tracks on the way over. Not that it matters much, I guess. It was going to be hard to find his tracks anyway with the road so hard packed and the frost from this morning gone. Come on.”

She led the way back towards the keep, still watching hopefully for any signs that pointed to the gnome. From time to time she would bend and let her fingers drag along the road’s surface, hoping to sort out Cletus’ thoughts from the others, but she got what she’d expected, a jumble of disjointed thoughts, impossible to sort through. This was the main road to the keep and workers traveled back and forth from the fields all day.

They arrived at the gates of the keep without any better idea of where the gnome had gone. Grampa Rolf didn’t approve.
Tarah Woodblade never loses a quarry. That’s how folks lose reputations
.

He was right. Especially now that they knew about her magic. Tarah kicked at the ground in frustration and leaned against the gate. She laid her head against the wood and a flash of memory shot through her mind. The gnome had placed his hand there.

“He heard a baby cry,” she said in surprise, looking back at the others. “He followed the sound.”

“That would have to be Bettie’s baby,” said Willum. He quickly sent a message through the bond. “Bettie left him back at the forge, but she says she sent Lenny to check on him after we left.”

“I just realized something,” Djeri said, his eyes widening. “Uncle Lenui looks like a smuggler.”

They ran down into the keep towards the forge. All was quiet. No hammer sounds. No baby cry. Bettie and Tolivar burst from the lodge to join in their chase and Samson thundered past them all, a spear in one hand. Tarah worried that the rogue horse was rushing into danger. If Cletus had wanted to fight Lenny, the dwarf was already dead. He could kill Samson before they got close enough to stop him.

Samson barreled up to the smithy, spear held at the ready. He stopped at the steps to the entrance and stared inside. Bettie and Tolivar arrived next, shoving past the centaur to burst through the opening.

“The hell, woman? We’re fine, dag-nab it!” Lenny yelled. The dwarf appeared in the entrance, his gap-toothed grin wide with excitement. “Y’all gotta see this.” He held out a long thin chain made of silvery metal. The dwarf had it looped across his arms and Tarah could see the familiar spear-like tip on one end and the silver ball on the other. “It’s crazy! I only ever seen one of these before in my life.”

“What is it?” Willum asked.

“It’s called a larkspur. The chain is of gnomish make and let me tell you, the level of intricacy here is too dag-gum crazy for me to attempt. Thing is, it’s a terribly difficult weapon to learn to use. Only the greatest of weapon masters would even try it and let me tell you, I’ve only been around this guy for five minutes and the things he did with it . . .” Lenny shook his head. “He’s dag-blamed amazing.”

Tarah remembered the gnome’s skill well. She shivered, thinking of the effortless and ruthless way he had dispatched the eight dwarf smugglers that had captured them. “Well, where is he?”

“Huh?” Lenny looked back, surprised that the gnome hadn’t followed. “Come on out here, Cletus!”

“Okay!” The gnome backed down the steps. Cletus was as Tarah remembered him, tall, gawky, and agile. He was still wearing the yellow ferryman’s jacket she had last seen him in. When he turned around, he was juggling three metal bars and a dagger that he’d brought from inside. He wasn’t even looking at the dangerous projectiles. His eyes had settled on Tarah and Djeri.

“Pretty Lady! Pretty Dwarf!” he said with an enthusiastic smile. He deftly caught the metal bars and knife and dropped them to the ground, then ran over to Tarah and enveloped her in a wiry hug. “I found you!”

She didn’t remember them being on such friendly terms, but then he had saved her life so she supposed she couldn’t complain. Tarah patted his back awkwardly. “Uh, hi, Cletus.”

“You remembered me!” the gnome exclaimed happily. Then he turned and planted a kiss on Djeri’s forehead.

The dwarf winced and rubbed away the moist spot with the back of his hand. “Why did you follow us here?”

“Oh! Uh . . .” Cletus tugged on the end of his long nose as he thought. “‘Cause I’m ‘posed to?”

Djeri squinted. “Can you be more specific?”

The gnome cocked his head, then said. “I don’t know that word.”

Then, so quickly that Lenny didn’t register it, the gnome leaned back and snagged the end of the silvery chain in the dwarf’s arms and flicked his wrist. The weapon darted out of the dwarf’s hands and arced through the air. As it fell, the gnome twisted a few times, wrapping the chain around his body.

“Holy frog on a log, did you see that?” Lenny exclaimed.

Tolivar wasn’t quite as won over by the gnome as Lenny. He was eyeing the dangerous creature with suspicion. “Hey, Cletus. You mind if I verify your intentions?”

“Okay!” Cletus said, though he surely had no idea what he was agreeing to.

“Let me see your hand,” Tolivar said and grabbed his wrist.

The two of them froze for a few seconds. Cletus’ eyes rolled up in his head and his mouth fell open. He made a slight gargling noise that went on until Tolivar was finished. Finally, the named wizard blinked and let go of the gnome’s hand.

“Looks like the Prophet has already done my work for me,” he said with a shrug.

Cletus’ mouth snapped shut and he looked around alertly, “Where did I go? Oh, hi pretty lady. Hi pretty dwarf!”

“This one’s not going to be any trouble,” said Tolivar. “John told him to come and find you. He’s supposed to help you against Shade’s dwarves.”

“John-John, the Prophet man,” Cletus agreed. “He’s nice! And he says Scholar Tobias wants me to help you. Also the big monkey says hi.”

“Right,” said Tarah, concerned. How trustworthy could someone this obviously disturbed be? “Are we seriously considering bringing him with us?”

Djeri was smiling. “When I met with the Prophet on the riverbank, he told me he was going to speak with a gnome. Think about it. This is huge for us. You saw how good he is in a fight.”

“I guess you have a point, but still,” Tarah said, wondering why she was the only one that didn’t seem to have met the Prophet.

“I know he’s the Prophet and all, but I think John might have made a mistake this time,” said Helmet Jan. “I mean, look at him. He’s right crazy.”

Tarah looked and found it hard to disagree. Cletus had found a rooster that was strutting across the road and was walking behind it, emulating its strut, his bony elbows flapping behind him. He had looped his chain over his head and the spear-like tip hung down past his nose like the rooster’s wattles.

“He’s not crazy,” said Tolivar with a shrug. “He’s just . . . unique. Anyway, good luck with him. I’m going to go back to the lodge and have a talk with Becca.”

“You mean, Nala?” Bettie said with a smile.

He shook his head and started back towards the front of the keep. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Swen’s wooden face managed to look displeased. “He’ll make our group seem much less dignified.”

“With Cletus added in, that makes nine of us,” Djeri said. “Not a bad size for a stealth group.”

“You’re thinking stealth with that guy around?” Dinnis asked.

The gnome had bored of his rooster impression and was doing a series of cartwheels.

Lenny cleared his throat. “Hey, Benjo, why don’t you show them academy folks ‘round the keep while I have a talk with Tarah and Djeri here.”

Benjo tore his eyes away from the gnome’s antics. “Show ‘em around?”

“Yeas, con-found it,” Lenny said. “They ain’t seen the whole place yet.”

“Uh, okay.” Benjo looked confused. “You guys ever seen a bunch of buildings before?”

The academy graduates looked at each other.

“How about this?” Bettie said with a roll of her eyes. “Any of you guys fancy a hot bath?” That seemed to perk their interest. “Benjo, take them over to the bath house.”

While the big man led them away, Lenny motioned Tarah and Djeri into the smithy. The interior was hot from the pulsing glow of the two forges that were lit. It was the biggest forge Tarah had seen. There were anvils of various sizes and a series of workbenches parked here and there along the walls.

“Come on in. I wanna show you my pride and joy,” Lenny said. He reached into a bassinet beside one of the benches and pulled out a squirming child.

Unlike the other infant that had been tightly bundled for the cold, this child was naked but for a cloth diaper. Tarah had to admit he was an impressive specimen for a baby. Even though he was younger than Coalvin, he was quite a bit larger, with a thick upper body and meaty arms, but with legs longer than the legs of a dwarf baby. His skin had a faint green tint and his eyes were wide open, his irises a deep orange. His little eyes stared at her as if challenging her to speak.

“His name’s Jacques Firegobbler! First worthy dag-gum son to be born in this family fer decades,” Lenny said proudly.

“No it ain’t! His name’s Jack!” Bettie snapped, her yellow eyes gleaming. She nodded to Tarah. “We call him that because Jack was Coal’s name before he was Coal.”

“We been through this, gall-durn it! Jacques was my grandpappy’s name!” He smiled at the rest of them. “His name’s Jacques, but we settled on calling him Jack fer short.”

Bettie nodded, but Tarah cocked her head. “That’s not shorter.”

“Here. Hold him,” said Lenny, shoving the child in her arms.

“No. I don’t want to-,” she said, wincing, but the dwarf left the child in her hands. Tarah held him away from her, her hands gripping the infant under the armpits. She expected another flood of memories to rush at her, but this time there was nothing.

“C’mere, Djeri. I got somethin’ to show you,” Lenny said and led his nephew through a door in the back.

“Hey little one!” said Cletus, leaning over Tarah’s shoulder. She hadn’t noticed him come in. Why couldn’t he have followed the others? The gnome brushed the baby’s nose with his finger. “Hey little smeller! He likes me! Don’t you, Jacky Jack-Jack!”

“That ain’t his name!” Bettie snapped.

Jack scrunched up his little face at Tarah. His lower lip pooched out as he gave her a baby scowl and Tarah found a smile appearing on her face. She felt a sudden feeling of warmth rush over her and pulled him in close, putting her arm under his back for support. The baby didn’t smell of fire and steel like his parents, but somehow clean and new.