Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) (34 page)

She deposited the chest in Blayne’s hands and said, “This is your payment as agreed in our contract.” She pulled a scroll from within her robe and opened it up. “You will need to sign here as proof that you were paid in full.”

“Seems a little dag-gum light,” Blayne said dubiously, opening the chest.

“The amount is in precious stones and gems,” she replied. “Their value was appraised before we left Alberri. The jeweler’s statement is in the chest.”

Blayne smiled at what he saw and shut the chest. “It’s always a pleasure workin’ with a gnome. She’s all yers, Scholar Aloysius.”

Steward Jessica handed the dwarf a quill and he signed the scroll. When he had finished, she tucked the scroll away and moved back to her place in the retinue. Tarah couldn’t stand how all these people with their fine dress and finer manners could prance about while she and her friends sat bound and beaten before them. The stewards hadn’t so much as batted an eye in her direction.

“Oliver,” said Aloysius.

Shade approached the gnome. “Yes, Scholar.”

“Fetch my leatherworker, will you? I’ve decided not to wait until morning.” Shade nodded and headed for the southern section of the camp. The gnome called out again, “Evan.”

“Yes, Scholar,” said one of the beefy red-sashed stewards.

“I’ll need my brazier,” Aloysius said. “Oh, and some salt.”

“Yes, Scholar.”

Tarah swallowed as the gnome inspected the rogue horse again. He wasn’t going to wait? Did that mean he meant to kill Esmine now? “Don’t do it!” she said. “Please don’t kill her, Scholar.”

“You must be the leader of this group.” The gnome looked down at her. “Miss Tarah Woodblade, is it? Oliver has told me of your skills.”

“Then you know I know animals,” Tarah said, thinking desperately of a way to turn this around. “You own her now. Do as you said. Use her as a mount. I spent some time with her. I-I know what she can do. She’s fast. She’s strong. She is amazing. She’ll make you invisible as you ride. Imagine that.”

She thought she saw a flash of pity in his eyes and pressed on. Surely the elegant gnome before her wasn’t the monster of her dreams. “I knew the dwarfs wouldn’t care. They’re just in this for the money, but you. You are a scholar. Think about the history. She is a thousand years old and a survivor. I saw it in her mind when I met her. Her name is Esmine. Please. You know her name now. Don’t slaughter her. Use her.”

The gnome nodded slowly. “Student Arcon, gag her.”

The thin man with the blond hair gestured with a gloved hand and Tarah felt something tight clamp over the lower half of her face. She could breathe through her nose but she could not move her jaw. Tarah gave the scholar a pleading gaze.  

The look in his eyes was definitely pity. “You make a compelling case, Miss Woodblade. But you make a mistake when considering me a historian. I study history, not to write about it, but to learn from it. Applied knowledge is something that my people so often forget in their zeal to document the past.

“Now normally I make it a point not to explain myself in public, but since I am about to launch a new and important age I will make a slight exception.” He reached into his robes and Tarah heard the distinctive twang of steel as he drew a sword from a sheath hidden within. He held it up, turning it in the firelight. The blade was thin and polished to a high sheen and Tarah could see a series of strange runes impressed into the metal. Some of them reminded her of the runes on her staff.

“This sword has its own bit of history. I received it from the estate of one of my forefathers years ago. You could say that it launched my focus as a scholar. It is made of gnomish steel and imbued with bewitching magic. The plaque it was mounted over called it only, ‘The Sword of Mastery’. There was no other information with it. I have looked far and wide for records of its creation or use, but could find nothing. It was only through extensive experimentation that I discovered what it is capable of.”

He smiled and brought the blade closer to Tarah’s face. She could see her angry visage reflected back at her in the metal. “When I pierce an enemy with this blade, I gain control over their will. Anything I request, they will do; spill any secret, promise any deed.”

There was an intake of breath among the dwarves and the gnome inclined his head acknowledging their reaction. “An amazing power to be sure, but the sword has its faults. The control over the individual lasts only as long as the blade is piercing their skin. The moment I remove the blade, they will remember everything I made them say or made them do and regain full control of their own will. It is a powerful sword, but this defect makes it one that, in my position, I can only rarely use.”

“But that,” he said, pulling the blade away from her gaze. “Ends today. Where my predecessor Abernathy looked to harness the power of a rogue horse’s soul for his own trivial comfort, I will put it to much greater use. You see, with a rogue horse’s soul bound to this sword of mine, I will be able to overcome its deficiencies. No longer will I need to pierce the flesh of a person to enact control. I need only be nearby. I am not sure what the final range of its power will be, but if Abernathy’s Barrier can cover a vast city, why can’t Aloysius’ Mastery?”

Tarah swallowed. She was wrong before. This gnome was indeed the giant from her dream.

“I don’t like the friggin’ sound of this,” Blayne said, eying the sword with suspicion.

“Ah, don’t worry yourself, ringmaster,” Aloysius said. “I very much doubt its power will be effective on dwarves, especially with all those trinkets you smugglers wear. I promise not to use it to try and cheat you at any rate. I will have too much need for your services after this is over.”

Blayne relaxed, but only a little.

The gnome’s stewards soon returned, Evan with a brazier full of glowing coals and Shade with a nervous-looking bespectacled man who looked like he had just been rousted from sleep.

“Now, then,” Aloysius said. He approached Esmine with his sword in hand. “I am truly sorry, poor thing. But this is for the greater good after all.”

No-no-no
, Tarah thought.
Please don’t happen. Please
!

The gnome slid his blade across Esmine’s throat.

*          *          *

We’re screwed
, Willum thought, wide-eyed as the rogue horse collapsed, her shimmering blood pooling on the ground beneath her.

“
This gnome is amazing
,” said Theodore, his voice filled with awe. “
I truly must applaud his forethought. Imagine, Willy. With a sphere of influence the size of a city he could rule with impunity; marching armies across the lands, subjugating nations, and no one could stand against him. No assassin could go through with a plot once they drew near. Ho-ho! Every army that came against him would turn around and join his cause
.”

I got the idea when he was talking
, Willum said. He looked at Tarah to gauge her reaction. Her head was down, her face defeated. It didn’t look like she was going to be much help.
Stop admiring the gnome and help us get out of this situation
.

“
What do you want me to do, Willy? I don’t have that much energy
,” the imp grumbled. The axe was still lying in the back of the wagon along with Djeri’s sword and the rest of the party’s weapons. “
You don’t kill enough things with me
.”

I don’t know. Can’t you set the wagon on fire or something? Cause a distraction
?

“
What good would that do? You are all tied up
.” Theodore remarked. “
Ho! The wagon starts on fire. The dwarves put it out. Situation over
.”

Willum watched sadly as the gnome cut a long strip of the rogue’s hide free from its flank and handed it over to one of the red-sashed stewards. He handed his sword to the one Tarah called, ‘Shade’.

“Now I want this process to last, understand?” Aloysius said, addressing the leathermaker. Shade presented the pommel to the little man and Willum saw that the sword’s handle had been stripped down to the metal. “The binding runes must be impressed delicately. I do not wish it to be rough on my hands.”

“But of course, Scholar,” the man said taking a small pan out of a black bag he had brought with him. He filled the pan with an opaque yellow fluid and sat the long strip of hide inside. “My proprietary formula will have the hide ready for stamping in minutes. When I am finished, it will be as the finest snakeskin handles.”

“
Oh ho, he’s good this gnome. He knows it too. He’s so excited, he can’t help but talk. What a gloater. Next part of the ritual says he’ll need to devour part of the rogue. With this one’s flair, he’ll probably drink some of the beast’s blood and marvel at the qualities of its flavor
.”

Not unless he plans on licking it off the ground
, Willum replied, feeling numb.
He’s just let it pool around the body
.

Aloysius pulled a small dagger from within his robes and cut two triangular pieces of flesh from the rogue horse’s side. He then had one of the stewards dust them with salt.

“When Scholar Abernathy did this, he drank the blood of the poor beast,” Aloysius said, laying the meat on the brazier. “Barbaric. Raw blood? What if the creature had a parasite? No this will be much better.” The smell of sizzling horse meat soon filled the air.

“
What was I thinking, Willy
?” said the imp. “
Ho, of course this gnome has to be different
.”

The scholar’s retinue of stewards parted as the two gnome warriors returned. Cletus was walking beside them. Scholar Aloysius raised an eyebrow. “Well there you are, Warrior Cletus. What have you been up to?”

The tall gnome was looking at the scene with abject horror. He raised one long-fingered hand to his mouth. “I taked too long. Poor horsey.”

“Cletus was causing trouble on the far side of the camp, Scholar,” said one of the gnome warriors. He had a deep cut on the side of his face. “It was difficult to convince him.”

“What is this, Cletus?” Aloysius said. “You refused a scholar’s order?”

“No, Scholar,” said Cletus, tears forming in his eyes as he looked down at the rogue horse. “Scholar Tobias said kill Shade’s dwarves. Stop Shade’s plans.”

“Wait a dag-gum friggin’ minute!” shouted Blayne. “Where’s my boys I sent after him?”

“He had killed the dwarves sent after him, ringmaster,” said one of the gnome warriors. “When we found him, he had just finished slaughtering all of your horses and had begun cutting down the tents on your side of the camp.”

“He what?” The dwarf raised his crossbow, aiming for Cletus’ head.

“Stop,” said Aloysius, raising a hand. “Steward Jessica will see that you are compensated for your damaged goods.”

“It ain’t just the money!” said the dwarf. “Or even the durn horses. They was good boys. Experienced, dag-blast it! You can’t replace them with coin!”

“Killing Cletus won’t replace them either. Jessica!” While Jessica walked over to deal with the dwarf, the scholar turned his meat over on the brazier. “Cletus you have been very naughty.”

“I was following Scholar Tobias’ orders,” Cletus said.

“And what if he had ordered you to kill Steward Oliver? What if he had ordered you to kill me?” Aloysius asked.

Cletus frowned in confusion. “Scholar Tobias don’t like you, but I know the rules. Don’t hurt stewards. Don’t hurt scholars.”

“What is the third rule of a gnome warrior?” Aloysius asked. He speared one of the chunks of meat with his dagger and raised the steaming flesh in front of his lips, blowing on it.

“Always obey a scholar,” Cletus and the two gnome warriors said in unison.

“Good. I am having you reassigned to me, Warrior Cletus,” Aloysius said. He placed the still steaming piece of meat in his mouth and chewed. “You will stop doing Tobias’ bidding and listen to my command.”

“
I told you he’s smart, Willy
,” said the imp. “
He could’ve let Blayne kill Cletus, but you should never throw away an asset you can still use
.”

“O-okay,” said Cletus hesitantly. “But, Scholar, could you let my friends go?”

The scholar continued to chew. “Let them go, Cletus? That will not be possible. I want to keep them around to make sure my artifact works.”

“Okay,” said Cletus. “After that can you let my friends go, Scholar?”

Aloysius swallowed and speared the second piece of meat. “You are in no position to ask for favors, Warrior Cletus. You are being penalized for bad behavior. For the foreseeable future I am forbidding you from having ‘friends’. You will return to a focus on your studies and training. You have become lax.”

The gnome wilted, his long face sad. “O-okay, scholar.”

“Don’t listen to him, Cletus!” yelled Djeri, “He’s no scholar!”

“Silence him,” Aloysius commanded. Arcon gestured again and, though the dwarf continued to shout, only a few muffled sounds escaped the armor. The gnome nodded. “This meat isn’t bad. I would have preferred some pepper. Perhaps a bit of sage.”

“
Ho-ho I knew it
,” snickered the imp. “
Usually you can’t get a gnome to eat. But if you feed one that’s on their focus, they talk like they’re chefs
.”