Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story

by James Maxstadt

  "Thanks, Father." I shook his hand and left.

  I felt good as I walked down the street. Magnus had that effect on people. It was early yet, not quite lunch time, so I had time to kill before night fell and I could complete my task. I whistled as I went and even stopped once to pat a small, fluffy, white dog on the head.

  "Yog drkath," the dog said, looking at me with blood-red eyes.

  I drew my hand back quickly. It felt weird, like it was dunked into a pool of slimy water, but it was perfectly dry. My vision blurred for a second, but when I looked back at the dog, things were perfectly clear.

  The dog woofed at me, wagged its tail and regarded me with its soft, soulful, brown eyes. The type of look that made you want to take the little thing home.

  "That was weird," I muttered, but I chalked it up to an overactive imagination and tiredness, and walked on. Maybe my interactions with the ghoul affected me more than I thought.

  "Yog drkath. Yog bragnth."

  I started to turn back.

  Don't. Just keep walking, a voice said suddenly. It was the same voice that had told me to go to the Nuisance Man Guild.

  This time, I decided to heed it without argument. Whatever this weirdness was, I didn't want to know.

  That night, I returned to the graveyard, let Mr. Crenshaw know that I was there, and went to finish the job. It didn't take long. The blessing that Father Magnus gave my sword made short work of the ghoul. He was dead, or maybe dead again, before he was even aware I was there. All it took was one stab, and it fell over, the glow faded from its eyes, and it was gone. The right tool certainly made a hard job a whole lot easier.

  I slept in the next morning, figuring that I deserved it after ridding the world of an aberration that even Father Magnus wanted dead. But finally, I roused myself, made a hearty breakfast, and then taking a cup of coffee, opened the door to step outside and see what the late morning had in store.

  I kind of liked this. Why had I been getting up early? There was nothing great that happened in the early morning, so why not sleep through it and enjoy the night life? Which was my plan for tonight, as a matter of fact. I was going to meet my new friend Jessup and check out a place we heard about, the Purple Ettin, with two different types of ale. I didn't even know there were different types!

  "Yog drkath! Yog smarkthoon!"

  The little white dog that I patted the day before was standing nearby, only this time, he wasn't alone. There was also a big, brown, muscular dog next to him, and both of them were staring at me with crimson eyes. Their jaws were moving and I would have sworn that it was they who were saying those words.

  As they stared at me, I started to feel funny. The color started to go out of the world, so that the bright sunshine took on a haze and the blue sky became a dismal gray. Things started to waver, as if I was seeing the world through glass that was streaked with dirty water. My stomach roiled and my head started to pound almost as badly as when Wulfonson had kicked me. I felt myself starting to fade, and stumbled forward, toward the dogs, spilling half of my coffee.

  "Argreive manthal! Argrieve trilliant!"

  The voice in my head rang out, only this time, the words actually came out of my mouth. Not in my voice though, or because I wanted it to.

  The dogs flinched and whined. Their red eyes turned back to the limpid brown that was much more normal and they fled.

  The world snapped back into focus, the colors returning and stabilizing. Suddenly, I was very, very tired.

  "What the..." I began.

  Ah-ah, said the voice. Language.

  “What’s going on?” I demanded, as I walked back into my house, the remainder of my coffee still held in hand. I sank down into a chair at my kitchen table, trying to keep my eyes opened.

  With what? the voice came back.

  “Those dogs! What’s with those weird dogs?”

  Oh, that. No idea.

  “No idea? But you had some sort of spell or something ready for them! And you used me to cast it!”

  Don't remember that.

  “Look, I don’t know who you are, why or how you’re doing this, but I know what just happened.”

  No. You don’t.

  Which was true. I really didn't have any idea what had happened. I didn’t know what the deal with the dogs was, or who this voice in my head belonged to, or what that crazy language they were using was.

  “Fair point,” I said. “But I know something happened, and I think you know what it was.”

  What were you planning on doing today?

  “What? Nothing, really. Pass the day and then meet up with my friend Jessup later. Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

  Nothing. Keep with your plan. Enjoy your day.

  “Wait!” But the voice was gone. I was beginning to feel a difference between when it was there and when it wasn’t. Like a low, background buzzing when it was. And now, that feeling was gone.

  The headache that sprang up when those weird dogs were staring at me faded. I was still holding my half-filled cup of coffee, so I downed it, grimacing at the now cooled temperature, got up and started for the bedroom. The headache was gone, but I still felt incredibly tired. A quick nap, no more than an hour or two, and then on with my day.

  Suddenly, my head was buzzing again. One more thing, the voice said.

  “What?” I hoped whoever this was could pick up on how grumpy I was through my tone of voice.

  Keep that sword with you. And it was gone again.

  I lay in bed, feeling exhausted, but not quite able to drop off. My mind was reeling. I didn’t want to stay inside all day, but the truth was, those dogs really freaked me out. Not the talking part, although that was definitely unusual, but the occasional red eyes. And the weird language. And the effect they had on me, for sure.

  Still, I wasn’t going to lie here all day. It was a beautiful day out and I had things to do, even if I wasn’t sure what they were. Finally, I fell asleep, and dreamed of red-eyed hounds chasing me through a graveyard, where all the stones flew into the air and rained down around me. When I woke, the bedclothes were soaked with my sweat.

  I didn't want to go out, but I didn't want to stay here either. I needed to go somewhere, but it needed to be someplace that I felt comfortable.

  I ended up at the watchhouse. Not so much because I wanted to work, but because it was a place I was familiar with, and I was curious to see if I could run into any other Nuisance Men. Ever since Lord Pennywither’s notice went up, there were very few around, and I still had no idea what it was about. I was anxious to run into someone who’d gone to see the man and could tell me what was going on.

  “Hey, Sarge,” I said as I came in. Again, there wasn’t much of a response other than his eyes flickering up to me. “Got that ghoul last night,” I said, puffing my chest out.

  “Great,” he replied, not even looking up from the newssheet he was reading. “I think His Majesty has about finished the proclamation declaring you a hero.”

  “Cute. Hey, have any of the others been in today?”

  In answer, he pointed at the Board. Wow, I would say not. It was packed with notices, all pinned on top of one another in a big mess. I never saw so many before.

  “Not going to see what the fuss is about?” Sarge asked me.

  I turned back to him, astonished that he actually took the time to speak to me.

  “No,” I said, when I regathered my wits. “I’m fine doing what I’ve been doing. Working my way up, you know?”

  Sarge nodded. “Well, you’ve got a chance now.” And he indicated the Board with a nod.

  I sure did. Everything was on there, including a lot that I wouldn’t have touched with a ten-foot pole at that point. A couple of trolls, a golem, and even a floating eye. All well beyond where I was in my career. But mixed in were plenty of goblins, of course, and several orcs, none of whom were named Wulfonson.

  With one last lingering look at some of the more powerful nuisances, I walked back to Sarge’s
desk.

  “Nothing today,” I said. “I actually came in to see if I could run into someone who’s been over to see that Lord. Any news on it?”

  Sarge shook his head. “No. Not a word.”

  “Isn’t that strange?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Could be. Maybe they’re all in on some secret mission that you’re missing out on.”

  I laughed, but his words stung a little. No one likes to think they’ve been left out.

  I rapped on the counter, practicing what I was determined would be my signature goodbye move, and took my leave.

  My trip to the watchhouse turned out to be a bust, but really, it was no big deal. It wasn’t as if I had any intention of taking a job today. My visit was pure exploration. And a bit of time killer, if I was being honest.

  It was still a little early, but I decided to head to the tavern where I was supposed to meet with Jessup. It was on the fringes of one of the swankier sections of the city, the Greenway District, so it would take me some time to walk there, but the proprietors were smart opening up in that area. They’d get some customers with real money coming from Greenway, while still keeping their legitimacy as a drinking man’s tavern.

  I walked along, thinking of the ale and getting a head-start on my new friend, enjoying the day, and letting the memory of the weirdness with the dogs, and my dream, fade away.

  One of the nicer things about growing up in the city is knowing which alleys are good shortcuts, and which ones will lead to dead-ends, or to a gang of known thieves and assailants. And the nice thing about being in my line of work, is that even if the alley does lead to trouble, you usually still have options. So, it was with hardly any thought that I took one that would cut a few minutes off my walk to the Ettin.

  The next thing I knew, I went sprawling face first onto the cobblestones. There was a sharp yelp from under my feet.

  I picked myself up, rubbing my bruised elbow.

  “Yog drkathhhhhh….” The red-eyed dog drew out the last sound into a hiss, a sound that I didn’t even know a dog could make. Then again, I didn’t know they could talk in weird languages either.

  For a moment, the world’s colors started to fade, and I started to feel ill, but I was having none of it. I lashed out, catching the dog squarely in the side with my boot. It yelped and skidded across the alley.

  “Hey!” a deep voice yelled. A voice I was familiar with.

  “Oh, no,” I whispered to myself.

  I turned my attention from the dog to the hulking figure that was emerging from a lean-to sort of structure that was built against the alley wall. The menace and sense of violence coming from it was almost palpable, despite that fact that it held a book in one massive hand.

  “Wulfonson.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but inside I was screaming like a scared child.

  “Why did you kick that little dog?” he rumbled.

  “It was casting some sort of spell! Look at it!”

  We both did. The dog, not the white one from before, but a brown and white mixed breed, with ratty fur but a soulful expression, was busy licking at the spot where my boot made contact and whining. Of course, it was.

  “A spell,” Wulfonson said, the disbelief evident in his voice.

  “Yeah, a spell.” I could see why the orc was having a hard time with this. “Look,” I said, “I’m just passing through here. I don’t want any problems.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have kicked that little dog.”

  I barely had enough time to duck. The slap still caught me, a glancing blow, but enough to send me tumbling back to the cobbles that I was getting very familiar with.

  By the time I shook the new cobwebs out of my head and scrambled to my feet, Wulfonson had the dog in his arms, cooing over it. For his part, the dog looked up at him piteously and tried to stretch enough to lick his face.

  He turned and glared at me before stomping past, the dog cradled gently against his chest, book still held tightly in his hand. As he went by, the dog’s eyes turned bright red for a moment. Some dogs always look like they’re grinning. This one looked like it was outright laughing at me.

  “Wulfonson,” I said, keeping my voice low and calm.

  He turned.

  “I suppose you think I deserved that one,” I said. “But it’s the last time.” I reached down and put my hand on my sword hilt.

  Wulfonson laughed and glanced back to his lean-to where his huge war hammer stood leaning against the wall.

  “Anytime,” he said, and turned his back on me.

  I hardly noticed. What got my attention was the dog. It flinched when I touched my sword hilt, even though I hadn’t even drawn it a little, and hid its eyes behind Wulfonson’s arm.

  Interesting.

  I was beginning to think that stumbling home from a night out with Jessup was going to be a regular thing. Our greatest discovery of the night was that both kinds of ale the Purple Ettin served were excellent. But to be sure, we did side-by-side tastings several times. All in all, a fun night, and after a few, I managed to put red-eyes, weird languages, huge orcs and any other weirdness out of my mind.

  Maybe I wasn’t at my most aware. Or, maybe what happened next was fated to happen. Who can know really? What I do know is that the streets were fairly deserted that time of night, and I was eager to get home, crawl into bed and not rise again until the sun was well over-head. The thought was so appealing, that it was crowding out any other considerations, including that there were several dogs trailing along behind me.

  “Yog drkath! Yog thazcluin!”

  I spun around and was hit by vertigo so badly that it dropped me to the ground. This was way more than simply from having a little too much ale and moving too quickly. The world spun around me like it was out of control, and it was all I could do to not vomit. The cobbles under my hands turned soft, like they were made of butter and I started to sink into them.

  “Yog drkath! Yog thazcluin! Yog drkath!”

  The voices were chanting now, the words crashing over me, pushing me down further into the street. I managed to lift my head, and immediately wished that I hadn’t.

  Dogs were everywhere, surrounding me, all with blood-red eyes, all mouthing the same syllables over and over. Their tongues lolled from their mouths and as I watched, grew small mouths of their own, which also chanted. Fangs grew from some of the dogs’ mouths, while others lost their teeth all-together and spoke through idiot grins.

  Spider legs sprouted from the sides of one large dog, lifting him, and he stalked forward, then crawled over me. I shuddered in revulsion as its legs touched me and its weight pushed me further down into the soft cobblestones. Another grew tentacles, while its own legs retracted, and it slithered forward, leaving a trail of glistening slime behind.

  The air felt foul, and I coughed, my vision starting to darken as my head began to pound. I struggled against the quick-sand like ground I was sinking into and managed to pull one hand free. While my head was aching, there was no sign of any buzzing, no indication that the mysterious voice was going to intercede this time. I was on my own.

  Straining to stop myself from tipping all the way over, I reached for my sword, groping at my side. My fingers brushed it, and I felt a slight relief. The blackness that was creeping in around the edges of my vision receded, and I could think more clearly.

  I pushed, hard, and managed to free my other hand and sit up, my knees sinking further into the pavement. I was stuck there, unable to move, but with the use of my arms again. I drew my sword, and it shone like a beacon in the darkness, and the dogs stopped chanting for a moment and wailed with eerie voices instead that undulated and faded in and out.

  Whatever blessing Father Magnus put on my sword apparently worked on more than a simple ghoul. These dog things didn't like it, either.

  But they were also readier for it this time, like that one that Wulfonson rescued from me had spread the word. Rather than flinch away or hide, the dogs backed up, their eyes staying bright red, but
then redoubled their efforts.

  “YOG DRKATH! YOG DRKATH! YOG DRKATH!”

  More changes came over them, and they moved forward again, warping and mutating as they came, until they no longer even looked like dogs. Hair was replaced by spines, scales, bedraggled feathers, or mottled, bare skin. Legs were grown, or pulled into their bodies and replaced by other repugnant appendages.

  But while I held the sword, they couldn’t get into my head again. I was suddenly kneeling on solid, gray cobblestones, as real and dirty as they were every day. I wasn’t sinking in, but then the sky started to crack, letting in a sickly, yellow light, making everything look diseased.

  I shut my eyes and squeezed the hilt of the sword. When I opened them again, the sky was normal, but the once-dog creatures still surrounded me, still inched forward. I felt a sharp pain on the back of my calf and turned to see that one had wrapped a thorn-ridden vine, black with drops of poison, around my leg. It felt like fire was being pumped into me, and my leg started to go numb.

  I let out a yell and slashed down at the vine with my sword. There was a yelp, and the vine was gone, but the numbness remained. In the place of the abomination that was there a moment ago, a medium sized dog, black with course, wiry hair, stared at me through dark eyes. It backed away, whining, but when I lurched toward it, it turned and ran, disappearing quickly around the corner.

  But the others were still there, still chanting, and I could feel the effects pushing against me. My head was pulsing with pain and I was having a hard time moving my leg. It was all I could do to stride forward, and swing at another vile creature.

  My sword passed through the spider legs of the one who walked over me, and the same thing happened. The legs disappeared, leaving behind a perfectly normal street mutt, its hair matted and scruffy. It also whined and ran.

  I spun from one to another, slashing through the parts of them that seemed wrong, trying to avoid being touched, and hopefully freeing them. Every one that returned to normal turned and ran, and the chanting became quieter, the force working against me got less and I could move more quickly. But still, the ones that remained didn’t flee until I changed them back.