Chelsea and Swindle

by James K. Pratt

  Chelsea and Swindle

  Book 1

  By James K Pratt

  Chelsea and Swindle

  Copyright © 2014 James K. Pratt

  Kindle Version 1.1 – September 2014

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Acknowledgments

  Chelsea and Swindle

  Chapter 1 Tuk

  The first scream echoing from the mouth of the cave jerked Tuk awake. Among the cries were the voices of tall folk—humans or elves. Tuk knew what this meant. His father, the chief, had told him. “Someday tall folk may come for us. If you are still young, hide. Guile has always been our greatest tool where brute force has been the tool of the other races.”

  Tuk dove under his bed. He spied his father clutching a bone knife next to the entryway, ready for anyone to enter his family’s part of the cave.

  A band of lightning ripped into the room and struck Tuk’s father. Magical lightning! His father dropped to the ground with wide eyes that stared at Tuk under the bed. Life evaporated from those once warm eyes until they were empty.

  Tuk didn’t scream or cry. Emotions fought to gush to the surface, but crying and getting caught would dishonor his father’s death.

  Tuk struggled to remain quiet while an intruder stepped into the room. The intruder’s arm, covered in a long blue sleeve, reached out and snatched the pale bone knife from his father’s dead hand. Then he was gone.

  The sounds of fighting had stopped. In its place were voices in the main part of the cave. None were goblin.

  Tuk hated it, but he needed to get out from under his bed to see the attackers’ faces. He was only seven, but honor compelled him to see them so he knew whom to kill.

  Goblins were good sneaks. Tuk was the son of a chief and had to be a good sneak. He crawled out from under the bed without making a sound. He passed by his father, but Tuk refused to dishonor himself by crying. Mourning had a time and place; just not here. Not now. Tuk clung close to the wall of the cave and looked out into the entrance area.

  Four men stood counting money. All goblin children were told scary stories of groups like these. They were adventurers. They had come to kill and to take what they wanted.

  The first man was a wizard. He wore no armor, but instead a blue robe that Tuk recognized as the one worn by the man who had taken his father’s knife.

  The second, a warrior, had his back to Tuk. He was the only one who wore metal armor. His bald shaven head was uncovered, his helmet by his feet. Sweat glazed his head.

  The third man was a priest. Like the wizard, he wore only a cloak, but his had holy symbols on it and was spotless. There was not even blood on it.

  Lastly, a redheaded human with leather armor gave the money out. Tuk knew he was likely a sneak, or as humans called them scouts. Sneaks wore lighter armor so they can hide and move quickly. He had many small knives sheathed—light weapons good for quick attacks. Sneaks hid while scouting out areas to help their team plan out attacks.

  The redheaded sneak passed a few bits of coin between the other three. “Twenty gold coins, that’s it. But they are…were goblins.”

  Everyone laughed.

  The sneak spoke again. “Really wish you hadn’t killed them all. I wanted to ask one of them some questions about some nearby tombs. We may have missed out on a great amount of gold.”

  The wizard sighed. “For future reference, let’s not waste our precious sweat on drunken post-adventure raids. We have Alquin’s head. Let’s get back to the city and get paid.”

  Tuk knew the name Alquin. He was a powerful orc chief from miles away. If they could get Alquin’s head, no wonder his father’s tribe had stood no chance.

  But what hit Tuk hard was that this was just a ‘drunken post-adventure raid.’ This attack had no purpose.

  “Well, that was fun,” the redheaded sneak said. The rogue nodded at the bone knife the wizard held. “Those mongrels make up for their savageness with nice weapons.”

  Tuk crawled back to his hiding place. His thoughts were flooded with sadness and fear, but his mind was made up. He would kill those four adventurers or die trying.

  Chapter 2 The Adventurers

  Tuk did not dare sleep while he waited under the bed. He gave the adventurers a five-minute head start. He wanted to follow them and not be seen, so giving them distance was key.

  He fought the painful feelings breaking into his mind; he forced them aside, and focused on what he needed to do.

  Crawling out from under his bed, there was only one thing on his mind. Hunting. Hunting animals or humans had very little difference. In fact, humans were slower. Finding them would not be an issue.

  At the mouth of the cave, the sun stood at its peak. Noon. Only a few clouds hung in the sky. The beauty of the day mocked Tuk’s sadness. Just before he left, he took a sword from the hand of a fallen tribe member. Tuk paused, thinking the weapon would be nothing but a large dagger in human hands; a reminder of what little chance he had of winning.

  The adventurers’ recent foot trails were easy to find. It took only fifteen minutes to spot the camp in the woods. The sneak’s red hair was the first thing Tuk spied.

  At ten paces away, Tuk hid behind a large, fat tree. They were taking down their tents and packing up, except for the redheaded sneak who snuck up to the wizard with the decapitated head of the orc chief, Alquin, while the wizard’s back was turned.

  “Oh, Corvinus, I love you,” the sneak said with a faux female voice, moving the orc jaw as if to make it talk.

  The wizard didn’t turn around. He only sighed and said, “Really, Seth.”

  “Really,” he cooed, still using the voice, “I loove youuu!”

  Tuk stopped looking and hid himself behind the tree completely.

  With them moving about and packing up it would be hard to sneak up on them. Anger burned in his head, destroying thoughts of anything but revenge.

  Silence.

  Tuk’s heart missed a beat. Had he been seen? He looked around the tree to the camp. The wizard was looking out of the camp as if something had caught his attention, but there was no sign of the sneak named Seth.

  Spinning around, Tuk briefly thought of running. Just then the sneak’s redheaded face burst in front of him, and he clamped Tuk’s arms so he couldn’t use his sword.

  “Trying to steal, mongrel?” The sneak’s fowl breath gushed out with each word.

  “What were you doing?” asked the wizard.

  “You killed my people!”

  No one spoke right away, but the sneak named Seth dropped Tuk. “Well, I guess you hotheads didn’t kill everyone.” Then he turned back to Tuk. “I’ve heard you goblins have a tomb with lots of gold. Take me there.”

  Chapter 3 Tombs

  The adventurers argued. They may have been greedy, but they wanted to get home and rest. Seth decided to find the tomb on his own.

  The other adventurers saddled up and trotted off.<
br />
  Seth tied the goblin up and yanked with the loose end of the rope. “Don’t try to run.”

  That insulted Tuk. Run? What would he do tied up running through the woods? He’d be a running snack!

  “Show me the way, goblin,” Seth said.

  Tuk knew about the tombs. Once, the tombs were for humans, but later Tuk’s tribe used them to bury their chiefs. The goblin tribe had never desecrated the others buried there. They only used the empty cells that remained.

  Tuk began to lead the way. He had no choice.

  The forest was dense with overgrowth, so riding on horseback was problematic. Seth pulled the horse through the woods instead.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at a jumble of rocks that now only barely formed a pale gray building. The structure’s roof leaned to one side. A dark round window stared out to the left side of the building’s face.

  “Where is the door?” asked the adventurer.

  “Only a goblin can reveal it,” Tuk said.

  He walked to the center of the tomb’s wall and pressed his hands against it. Then he spoke a few words from a goblin dirge and the boulder rolled back and to the right, revealing two hallways. One passage led to the left, and the other went forward into darkness.

  As they walked in, Tuk knew if he was to defeat the sneak, it had to be soon. Seth would not let him live long. But these tombs, even if they were first built by humans, had the heart of a goblin. They were filled with tricks. Seth would soon die.

  Chapter 4 Entombed

  Father had once told Tuk, “A quick way to kill a tall folk is through their pride and greed. Neither of these faults do the tall folk see in themselves. No, they only see it in us. That is why these traits can kill them.”

  Tuk took Seth to the one room that he’d want to see first. Tuk pressed his hand to the wooden door and whispered a few words.

  The wooden door swung wide revealing what lay inside. The walls of the cell magically glowed a dull orange light. Seth’s eyes widened as he saw more treasure than he could hope to carry. Sacks had long split open, spilling out hundreds of gold coins. Among the shining coins, gems glittered. Even a chest and coffin were pressed in gold.

  Tuk watched Seth, dazed with greed, walk in without giving Tuk a care. The tomb felt Seth’s intention and the door suddenly shut behind him.

  The sneak pounded on the door. “Open this door at once!”

  Tuk had no time to listen. The entrance to the tomb started to close. He didn’t expect this. The goblin scrambled to the door, but no luck. With a thud, the door closed.

  Without a chance to escape, he decided to torment Seth from the opposite side of the door.

  Tuk sang, “Go to sleep, go to sleep, you are slowly dying. Go to sleep, go to sleep, soon they’ll be no air. Don’t worry, you’ll be in hell, and soon your friends will be there.”

  Though he’d wanted to kill all of them, he at least got one.

  And yet, Tuk’s story was far from over.

  Chapter 5 Chelsea & Swindle

  Sometimes, I felt like everyone’s mother.

  I lied to my fellow orphans. Dirk, the head of our orphanage, wasn’t just sick—he was dying. Since he’d been ill, I pretended to pass on his instructions, insisting no one visit him because he needed rest.

  A priest of Marduk hovered over Dirk, feeling his forehead. “Chelsea, how long has he been unconscious?”

  “Three days,” I said.

  Dirk’s breathing sounded painful, though he remained asleep. The priest opened Dirk’s eyes. Even that did not wake him.

  Since coming to inspect Dirk, the priest had been avoiding eye contact with me. He likely knew I didn’t have much money since I was an orphan, so he didn’t want to stay long.

  “How long have you known this man?”

  A strange question. “Since we first got here. We were four years old, I guess.”

  “We?” he asked, looking around as if trying to find someone else with me.

  “My friend, Swin. He’s not here.”

  The boys had wanted to challenge Swin to a game. Unlike most of the orphans, who were often human or elf, Swindle was an oddity. He was half orc and half human.

  The kids roared outside. From the sound of it, my friend Swin was winning, again.

  “He’s not sick.” He brushed his hand over Dirk’s forehead, magically revealing a glyph. The mark upon Dirk’s forehead was a tiny circle of teal runes. “He’s cursed. Somehow, he’s offended the gods—”

  “What?”

  “Your beloved Master has helped a follower of illegal gods,” the priest said.

  Dirk would not be that stupid. Illegal gods were outside the pantheon. Those excommunicated by the gods were normally worse to me that those in the pantheon. Worshipping or helping them just wasn’t done. Only criminals and the desperate asked favors of the illegal gods. And Marduk and the gods in the pantheon had their priests kill off their followers.

  “Dirk would never knowingly do that,” I said.

  “He may have unknowingly helped. In fact, I am very sure he did not help on purpose, or else he’d be dead. The runes give me a means to check on what Dirk did. The gods don’t make this easy.”

  “There is nothing you can do?”

  “The price is twenty gold pieces, and then I can get the things I need and prepare a cure for your friend.”

  We might have to beg, I thought. To earn the gold, some of us could play instruments. We would all have to eat a little less. “I don’t know how fast we can get that, but we will get it.”

  The cleric curved a smile, “Sure you will, little girl.”

  “Thank you for your time,” I said as the priest walked out. I hated all priests.

  I took one last look at Dirk and left.

  I worried about what I was going to tell them. With all sixteen of the kids looking at me, I fretted about how to explain the situation without scaring them. I had to tell them how bad Dirk was because we needed to raise money to help him.

  Sixteen kids sat around the big table. That’s what we called it. We ate at the big table. Dirk had all the meetings at the big table.

  Fear dissolved my words before I spoke. I hated talking. I worried that if I told them the truth, they’d cry.

  A little girl asked, “Is Dirk going to die?”

  Oh no, bad start. “No,” I said.

  “Okay, so what’s wrong with him then?” asked Flick, one of the older boys who was almost my age. “This is a meeting about Dirk, right?”

  “Yes, it is, sort of. First, Dirk isn’t sick. He’s cursed.”

  Shock filled the faces in the room. Swin remained stoic, but he’s Swin—he’s always like that. Swin Dei ‘El was his true name. Swindle was just a nickname that stuck. He was honest though…too honest actually.

  “Cursed? Why was he cursed?” Flick asked.

  “I do not know. The priest said he would check.”

  Flick’s brow crinkled. “Wait, which god did it?”

  “I didn’t ask. I was more concerned—”

  One of the older girls broke in. “It doesn’t take much to figure out. Our city is named after Inanna.”

  “No,” Flick said, “she’s the goddess of love and status. We know Dirk isn’t interested in status, and Inanna often avenges lovelorn girls.” Flick shook his head. “I don’t think fat, old Dirk is going to leave any lovelorn girls in his wake.”

  Flick was right. The two domains she ruled over would not get him in trouble with her, making her unlikely.

  “Marduk!” several of the kids said.

  “Maybe,” a few said. I agreed.

  “Marduk is everywhere,” Flick said, “but why? Dirk’s still not important enough to get Marduk’s notice.”

  That received nods from the others. It was true. Dirk never spoke against the gods, though I thought he might have wanted to. The gods weren’t nice.

  This would have been a good time for me to talk, but I took too long getting my words together.

 
“Can we talk to him?” the little girl who first spoke asked.

  “No, he has not been awake for days.”

  Scowls filled the room, scowls that were fixed on me.

  “What?! You told us he was giving you instructions,” Flick said.

  Many of the kids roared in agreement.

  I couldn’t believe I let that slip. “But that’s why we are here—we need to raise the money to make him better.”

  I had lost the crowd. A bunch of the older kids scowled and called me a liar while many younger kids cried.

  Finally, Swin stood up. He seldom spoke, but when he did, the other kids listened. Standing by me at the head of the table, he said, “Everyone calm down. Dirk is going to get better. All Chelsea wanted to do was tell you that we have a plan to make him better, and we are going to sort out the details and tell you in a few minutes. So everyone go.”

  We have an idea? What idea? Swin, you better have a good one. “Plan? What plan?” I asked.

  Everyone had gone but the two of us. I was sure some might have been listening by the door though.

  “Morn, at the Adventurers’ Guild, has offered me a job. An easy one.”

  “Easy? Easy? Swin be realistic. Adventurer jobs are dangerous. The work is like, kill off a goblin tribe that’s burning down farmland. Or, kill Alquin, the orc chief, like those four adventurers did.”

  “No, you don’t understand. This is easy. We just have to check up on someone. The guy we are checking on is an alchemist, so we are being paid to keep quiet about the location of his lab. His granddaughter hired us. She gets letters from him via carrier pigeon every other day, but she hasn’t gotten a message from him in two weeks. Like him, she is an alchemist too, and she can’t leave her lab right now because she has a project she can’t walk away from.”

  So basically, we had to check on why an alchemist hadn’t written to someone in a while. And we were being paid to keep the lab location a secret. Morn trusted him, and Morn’s trust was well placed. I had never known Swindle to lie, despite his nickname.