He looked over at me in surprise, and the goblin stopped sobbing for a moment as she lifted her head to see who was shouting.
I was sure that Wulfonson was about to brain her, or at the very least physically remove her from the room. But when he turned toward me with a quizzical expression, I saw what was really going on. In his hand he held a soft, clean cloth, which he was handing to the goblin. She took it, and used it to dab at her eyes.
“Don’t what?” he asked.
“Oh…umm…don’t drop it. I thought you were going to. I didn’t want it to get all dirty before she used it.”
He shook his head, doubting my sanity, but then shrugged and turned back to her. “This is my partner. His name is Grandfather and he’ll give you the money.”
“But he’ll take it again!” she wailed, but she wasn’t talking about me.
“No,” Wulfonson growled, “he won’t.” Then he turned to me. “I’ll be back. After Mrs. Grounddigger here, there’s Jacey Lane. She actually did get taken by the Eye. Find out what stuff and see if you can find it. I should be back before you’re done.”
Without another word he stormed out of the room, dog at his heels.
“Ummm…so, Mrs. Grounddigger, was it? Yes. Okay. What do you need?”
“Rent, food, clothes, you name it,” she said miserably.
“But how much, exactly?”
She took a deep breath and straightened up. “I don’t like to ask for charity, Mr…”
“Grandfather,” I supplied.
“Grandfather, then.” There was one thing about goblins. With their names, they never even batted an eye at mine. “As I say, I don’t like to ask for charity. But…well, things have changed, and my husband….he’s changed with them. He was a good goblin. I swear that he was and he loved us all very much. But lately, here in the city…he got involved in things he shouldn’t. He had a hard time finding a job, and then…stealing, and then drinking and sniff…and…and…”
Her eyes welled up again and she reached for the cloth that Wulfonson gave her.
“I see,” I said. “Now it’s up to you to provide for your kids, huh? That’s a tough one. Come on with me. We’ll figure out what you need and get you fixed up.”
We returned to the office, where I sat behind the desk and we talked about what she would need to keep their heads above water for the next month or so. I kept careful track of her expenses and added to it in case things cost more than we thought they would. They always seemed to. When we were done, I added up the figures to come to a grand total.
“You made a mistake,” she said, her voice timid.
“What? Where?” I looked at my addition, but didn’t see it.
“There.” She pointed, and there it was. Yep, I forgot to carry the two.
“Ah. Stupid of me. Let me try this again.” I re-added the numbers, making sure to correct my mistake this time.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and pointed again.
“No way.” But yes, there was another error. This was getting embarrassing and I was beginning to wonder how many other mistakes I had made. “Let me do it again. Third time’s the charm, right?”
She smiled nervously at me, but kept silent. Until she pointed while I was in the midst of my arithmetic.
“Oh, for…here you do it.” I pushed the ledger over to her.
“It’s 12 gold rubles and 17 silver ingols,” she said, without bothering to look at it.
“Really? How did you do that?”
“I added them up while you were working on it,” she said.
She added them in her head, reading the numbers upside down, and while watching to see if I would make a mistake. I sat back and considered her.
“Hold on a second,” I said.
I opened the book to an earlier page and slid it across the desk to her. She glanced at it, then at me.
“Any mistakes?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. Several.”
I sighed. “Mrs. Groundddigger, would you like a job?”
I left her there with the books, while her kids played around the upper levels of the building, so that I could work with Jayce Lane. She’d been forced to give her jewelry to the Eye to free her husband from its thrall. Since that was a favorite trick of the crime-lord there were a lot of pieces around, but Jayce described her’s to me in great detail, and didn’t seem interested in any of it except the one that she lost. She left with a huge smile on her face as Wulfonson came back, a goblin held firmly in his massive hand.
He didn’t say a word to me, or to anyone else, but his dog marched along, keeping a stern eye on the goblin. When he reached an unused room, the same one that the orc that worked for the Eye had hidden in, he threw the goblin in and slammed the door.
“Make sure he stays there,” he said to the dog, who parked himself in front of it.
Wulfonson returned with a large key. “You can come out when you’re clean,” he growled, as he turned it in the lock.
There was no answer from inside the room.
“Was that…?” I began.
“Yes,” Mrs. Grounddigger answered. “My husband.”
While I was working the financial end, Wulfonson went straight to the heart of the problem.
“How long are you going to keep him in there?” I asked. The day was getting late and Mrs. Grounddigger had left, followed by her kids, who were remarkably well-behaved for having been cooped up inside all day.
“Until he gets it out of his system,” Wulfonson said. “Should only be a few days.”
I nodded and continued straightening up a pile of papers.
“Why did you hire her?” he finally asked me.
“We could use her. She’s got a great head for numbers. Besides, even if Doppleswitch,” which was her husband’s name, “gets cleaned up, they still have the same problem. What’s he going to do? It was hard enough for him before his reputation as a thief and a sniff-user. Now, for a while anyway, they have an income.”
Wulfonson didn’t say anything. He reached down and scratched the dog’s head, who ate up the attention.
“What’s your real story, Grandfather?” he asked me a moment later. “Really. Why are you doing this?”
I sat down and looked at my hands. “Honestly? I guess I’ve been having a crisis of conscience. If that’s what you want to call it. I mean, I still believe in what I do as a Nuisance Man, and I have no plans to quit. But…I don’t know, seeing you start this whole thing made me think that I could do more. At least for a little while.”
“You’ve said that before. But that doesn’t answer my question. Why here? Why now?”
“Seemed like as good a time as any. And…”
I hesitated, remembering his reaction to the question before.
“Go on,” he growled. “Spit it out.”
“I’m curious. I’ve run into Unhoused orcs before. A lot, actually. And without exception, they’ve all deserved it and have all done things that put them on the Board, without question. There’s usually a very good reason for them to have been kicked out. But you? I don’t get it.”
“This whole thing has been a ploy to get me to talk about it? That’s why you’re here?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “Not at all. And if you don’t want to tell me, I can accept that it’s none of my business. I’ll still hang around and help for a few more days. Either way, I’ve got to go back to work soon. But I see what you’re doing here, and know for a fact that you could have done me in a few times now, and didn’t. It doesn’t add up, although as we learned today, I’m not very good at that…still, the Unhousing doesn’t fit with what I see of you.”
He continued to pet his dog without responding. Finally, he glanced up at me.
“What do you know about us orcs? I mean really?”
“Same as anyone else who’s lived here the last several years. Big families, who usually take over several buildings and turn them into compounds. Most are like everyone else, wanting a better life, but there are a few families who ar
en’t so much on the up and up.”
He nodded. “Close enough. But before we came here, do you know anything about that?”
I hesitated. I did, or thought I did anyway, but it wasn’t very flattering. Wulfonson noticed my reluctance.
“Go on. I pretty much know what you humans think, anyway. Might as well say it.”
“From what I know, orcs live in caves and are savages. They fight among themselves all the time and attack anyone foolhardy enough to come near. Oh, and they eat humans, and pretty much anything else they can get.”
I fell silent, sure that he was going to get very upset. Now that I said it out loud, I had to admit that my description didn’t sound very much like the orcs I was familiar with who moved here. Even the worst of the ones I took from the Board weren’t on there for eating people.
Wulfonson continued to stare at me for a moment, then, to my surprise, burst out laughing. It took him a minute to regain control of himself.
“Yeah,” he said, when he could talk again. “That’s about right. Let’s start with the last. We don’t eat humans, or each other, or dwarves, or anything like that. We eat meat, sure, but it’s goat, or sheep, or cow, or deer, or…you get the picture. And we season it with the most delicious spices, until it will flood your mouth with flavor. You should try our cooking sometime.
“And we don’t live in caves. At least, not like you’re saying it. Yes, our homes are underground for the most part, sometimes with towers or walls above ground. Our builders are some of the best, being rivaled only by the dwarves. Our homes are bright, lit by lamps, candles and cunning shafts dug into the stone to direct sunlight to us. And they’re painted in many colors, not like the drab surroundings around here.
“We do live in large, family groups. Is there infighting? Sure, I suppose. As much as any other family, but it’s rare that it becomes serious. Why would it? Family is the most important thing to us.
“But fighting others? Oh, yes, that we’ll do, and gladly.”
Wulfonson was speaking calmly, and I listened, fascinated not only at this glimpse of orc life outside of Capital City, but by the mere fact that he was talking so much. But now, his eyes took on a gleam as he continued.
“Yes, we’d fight other clans if need be. And the dwarves, especially when they tunneled into our houses. Or when they wanted to mine a mountain that we claimed as ours. Hill giants were great challenges, and many is the group of orcs that faced one down, only to find their numbers cut in half and grateful that the things don’t cooperate with each other.
“But most of all, we fought as sport. In the arena, once a year, in a contest called the rak-thakrath. I don’t think there’s a human word for it, but basically it means contest for honor and house supremacy. Once, the rak-thakrath was used as a means to crown an overlord of all the orc clans, but that was long ago. Now, it’s sport and for bragging rights and wagering.”
“Let me guess,” I interrupted him. “That was what you did.”
“Of course. Look at me. I’m made for fighting, and always have been. From the time I was born I was larger than orcs my own age, able to do things they couldn’t. I killed my first wolf at the age of seven, and then a fire-drake when I was not yet full-grown.”
I swallowed at that, suddenly aware of just how dangerous Wulfonson really was. A fire-drake was like a miniature dragon. A lizard several feet long, with wickedly sharp claws, venom-dripping fangs, and the ability to breathe fire. It wasn’t a creature that I’d care to face, not now or ever, and Wulfonson killed one on his own.
I never doubted that he was telling the truth. Yeah, he was bragging a little, I guess, but really, he was stating facts. It was plain to see how out of the ordinary he was for an orc. And having been on the receiving end of one of his blows, I could personally attest to his power.
“And when did you get into the arena?” I asked him.
“Younger than most, but some of that was because of Oleg.”
“Oleg?”
“He’s what you would call my cousin. My father’s sister’s son. He’s the same age as me, and we couldn’t have been more different, or any closer. Oleg was small for his age, and small for an orc. But he was wiry, and smart. He was the smartest orc I ever knew, and that’s saying something. If you could meet my grandmother, you’d see how clever an orc can be, and Oleg…well, I know now that he was even more sly.”
He stopped and took a moment to rough up his dog’s fur, his eyes unfocused as they saw into the past.
“Oleg and I were inseparable as kids. Everywhere I went, he was with me. He’d come up with the best games for us to play, and I watched out for him. If some of the bigger children thought he was an easy target, they’d have to answer to me, even as we got older. That fire-drake? Oleg was with me when I killed it. He designed a shield, made out of several thicknesses of animal hide and kept damp. It protected me from the fire so that I could get close. When it was done, I gave him the things hide, and Grandmother recognized him as much as she did me for getting rid of such a dangerous beast.”
“Grandmother? Was she the head of your clan?”
“Still is.”
I held up my hand. “Wait. I thought that all orc clans were ruled over by the senior male?”
“A lot of them are, but it’s really the most capable who leads, and for us, the Wulfonsons, that’s my grandmother. As I said, she is very, very smart.”
“I’m getting the sense that somehow your cousin, this Oleg, was responsible for what happened. I’m thinking he turned your grandmother against you in some way.”
“You’re smart, too. Just like him. Yeah, that’s what happened.”
“How?”
“It was the last time I fought in the rak-thakrath. The clan was heading here shortly after, so this would be my final battle. I wanted to go out on top, undefeated at a record of twenty wins and no losses.”
“Hold on. With the way you’ve been talking, about your underground houses and this contest and all, I don’t understand why you came to Capital City. Or why any orc would if they all feel the way you do.”
“Times are hard out there. The prey animals are going away, either because we hunted them, or because they’re moving on. Competition, and not just from other orc clans, was getting worse. Here, there’s the chance to make money and buy what you need. The Wulfonson’s are excellent stone-masons, it’s a point of pride for my father and mother. They can build a wall that a troll couldn’t knock down, or sculpt a statue so beautiful it would bring tears to your eyes.
“Out there, there’s not much call for that anymore. You can’t waste time sculpting when your children are going hungry. Here, they take orders and work for others, but they buy all the food they want.”
When his Majesty opened the borders, maybe he knew more than I gave him credit for. I’d seen orc stonework before, and Wulfonson wasn’t wrong. The only thing I could compare it to was dwarven.
“Anyway, on the day of the rak-thakrath, I drew my lot to see who my first opponent would be. There were twelve of us entered, all from different clans. We would all fight one another, the first six winners moving on and so on. Eventually, only one of us would be left standing. As I said, that was me every time from when I first entered the arena. No one wanted to face me.”
“Were these fights to the death?”
“No, but it did happen. It was a brutal sport and orcs got hurt, sometimes to the point that they couldn’t recover. But there’s no artistry in that. The real trick was to get your opponent to surrender, or to incapacitate them to the point that they couldn’t fight any more, but would heal up in a day or two. I was very good at that.”
No surprise there.
“On this day, I drew my lot and saw that my first opponent was none other than Lara, the she-demon, of clan Rolandson.”
He stopped again, and his eyes got a little extra fire in them.
“Ah, what can I say about Lara? She was magnificent! Her fangs were long and sharp enough to draw blo
od from the very air! She moved like a stalking cat, quick and precise in her strikes! Her hair was blacker than the darkest night, and she kept it decorated with the most beautiful bones! She was every bit as lovely as she was fierce!
“As strong as I am for an orc, Lara was equally as fast. All orcs are capable of bursts of speed, whether running or striking out. It was the only way any opponent ever even came close to defeating me in the rak-thakrath, but none of them were powerful enough to make their hits count. And soon, their stamina would give out, and then I’d have them.
“Not so with Lara! Her speed came to her naturally, and I would imagine that an orc trying to do something as simple as walk with her would quickly find themselves left behind. I was very happy when I saw her name on the stone I drew. This would be a fitting end to my time in the arena!
“I couldn’t hit her. No matter how hard I tried, she avoided my blows. My warhammer whistled through the air, but when it landed, it was always in a spot that she no longer was. And she’d use that time, those scant moments, to jump in and score a hit of her own. Lara didn’t use regular weapons. Instead, she wore gauntlets with sharp claws, like a dragon’s, that she made herself. Her family worked in metal, a rarity among orcs and a prized skill.
“She scored hit after hit on me, opening up several small cuts. Not enough to hurt me, or even to slow me down, at first. But soon, I staggered, and the crowd went crazy. That never happened before. I realized then what Lara’s plan was. She would simply stay away from me, let the blood loss from all those little cuts add up, and weaken me that way.”
I must have looked skeptical at this.
“I know,” he continued. “And you’re right. That strategy was tried before and it never worked. But Lara scored many more hits than anyone ever had, and they were deeper. Those claws of hers were deadly weapons on the right hands.
“I could feel my strength starting to ebb. I needed to do something, or else I would suffer my first and only defeat in the rak-thakrath, an unacceptable thought. I swung my hammer again, and again she darted in. Only this time, I let loose. My hammer spun across the arena, smashing into the wall and taking a good-sized chunk out of it.
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 71