Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story

by James Maxstadt

  “Duke,” the large, older man behind the counter replied. “What’s got you so thoughtful? Whatever it is, you should stop. It looks like it hurts.”

  “That’s only because you don’t know what it’s like. Having never had more than two thoughts in a row before. Lilly downstairs?”

  “Nah, she headed out of here a while ago, with a big book under her arm. She did say that I was to tell you that she was going to the Academy. Consider the message delivered.”

  “Thanks. I’ll head that way myself.” I started for the door when something occurred to me. “Hey, Sarge. Anything unusual on the Board today?”

  “You mean unusual like something unique for you to go after? Or unusual because it’s an odd occurrence?”

  “The second.”

  He peered over at the notices pinned to the large board on the other side of the room. “Hmm. Don’t think so. Oh, here’s an idea. Walk alllll the way over there and take a look for yourself.”

  He shook his head at me and turned his attention down to the ever-present newssheet on the desk in front of him.

  I did as he suggested, but there was nothing there that would lead to the thief. There weren’t even any particularly interesting nuisances.

  “If I’m late to see Lilly,” I said to Sarge on my way out, “I’m telling her it’s your fault.”

  He half-waved. Sarge wasn’t scared of much of anything, and certainly not me telling Lilly on him. Most of the time, in our little game of one-upmanship, she sided with him anyway.

  #

  The crowd in front of the Academy was thinner, only because it was closed. People still gathered, either not realizing that before they came, or because it was unusual, and they were waiting to see what would happen. Either way, it was a lot easier for me to thread my way through the people and climb the steps, only to be face to face with the same guards from before.

  At least, I think it was the same guards. Large dwarves in full armor look remarkably similar. Big beards that hid their lower faces accounted for a large part of their appearance, and their chainmail armor was uniformly clean and well taken care of.

  “Need to get in there, guys,” I said.

  “No one is allowed in without prior authorization,” one of them said, barely registering me.

  I sighed. Dwarves do everything well, except bureaucracy. I learned over the years that it’s best to try to play along.

  “Okay, who do I get authorization from?”

  “Director Vanstonesun.”

  “Right, and I suppose he’s at the Guild Hall, way off in Underworld, right?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Ah. Where is he, then?” As if I didn’t know.

  “Inside the Academy, sir.”

  “One of you guys want to go get him?”

  “Sorry, sir, but we’re not authorized to leave our posts.”

  “I’m guessing he’s the same guy who can authorize that.”

  “Yes, sir. Well, and Brindar. He can also, but he’s…”

  “Inside,” we said together.

  “Well, that’s where I’m going,” I said, and jumped forward. I had no chance of getting past them, of course. These guys weren’t picked to guard some of the dwarves greatest treasures because they were amateurs. They were hand-picked, hardened professionals, and two seconds later I was being firmly restrained and taken inside to Brindar, as was procedure. Like I said, at times it’s best to play along.

  “What the…oh for…. let him go,” Brindar said when I was brought before him.

  The guards released me and awkwardly stood waiting. Brindar stared at them for a second, then “Back to work!” They took off, not quite running, but not merely walking either.

  “Looking for Lilly?” he asked me.

  “I think she’s waiting for me.”

  “Come on. She’s with Director Vanstonesun.”

  We found the two with their heads together over a large tome, talking in quiet tones. I assumed it was the same book that Sarge told me she left the watchhouse with. Brindar and I stood quietly by, waiting for them to finish. I learned long ago that when Lilly is reading a book, it’s best to leave her be. There are times that she isn’t simply reading a book. Sometimes, it’s reading her back.

  This time, she glanced up and noticed me there.

  “Oh, good, you’re both here. We found something, and the Director and I were trying to figure out if we were on the right track. If we are, we’ve got a potential problem.”

  “Yes,” Director Vanstonesun said. “It appears that shield was much more than just a particularly unpleasant looking artifact.”

  “Big surprise,” Brindar grumbled.

  Vanstonesun ignored the interruption. “It’s not even dwarven in origin, although it may have been forged by dwarvish hands, if that makes any sense.”

  “Not really,” I supplied.

  He frowned. “Think of it this way. If a dwarf was under a sort of compulsion and forced to create something that went against the fiber of his being, the very morals of his society, we could say that yes, he created it, but its inherent nature is most certainly not dwarvish.”

  That did make sense. Even to me.

  “Now, that’s what we believe happened in this case. A dwarven smith of some renown was forced to fashion the shield in question. But it was not for dwarven use.”

  “Then what was it for? Who forced him?”

  “Those are the questions we’re trying to answer,” Lilly said. “Look.”

  She turned the book toward us, and there in black ink was a drawing of the shield, hideous face and all. Beneath it was penned the legend, “Discsion fe Galog Ossimarie”.

  I read it out-loud slowly, my tongue tripping over the unusual syllables.

  “What’s that mean?” I asked when I finished.

  “It’s not a dialect that’s known to me,” the Director said, “and it is no form, or derivative of, dwarvish.”

  “I think I know,” Lilly said, “but it’s in a language that I hesitate to speak. I let you do it because I knew you’d never pronounce the words correctly. The closest I can translate it is ‘shield of the Bone Lord’.”

  “The Bone Lord,” Brindar mused. “Not a legend I’ve ever heard.”

  “Nor I,” Vanstonesun said. “Because it’s not a dwarven legend.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a legend at all,” Lilly put in. “I’m afraid it could be very real, although I have no idea who this Bone Lord would be.”

  “Then what’s got you so worried?” I asked.

  “The language. It’s not from here. It’s the language of the Pit.”

  I almost laughed at that. The Pit. That mythical place where the bad boys and girls went when they died. But then my mind went back to a place of perfect peace that I glimpsed some time ago, when Lilly was forced to kill me in order to save me from a banshee. And suddenly, the Pit seemed like it could be a very real place.

  I didn’t feel like laughing anymore.

  “You think that maybe this Bone Lord came after his shield?”

  “No, but from what we’ve been reading the shield could be used to bring him here.”

  “Why would someone want to do that?”

  She shrugged. “The same reasons as always. They think they’ll get riches and favors bestowed on them, and they don’t care what happens to everyone else.”

  Brindar was studying the book, his lips moving as he read. Other than the caption under the picture, it was written in archaic, yet recognizable, common.

  “What’s this mean?” he asked, a broad finger pointing at a passage.

  Lilly and Vanstonesun read, then both their faces paled, and they looked at each other, mouths agape.

  “Get out there,” Lilly said, recovering first. “Use everything and anything you can and find that shield. Today. I’ll go back to the watchhouse and get anyone I can. And get word up the hill to the Palace Guard and those idiots in black.”

  “Lilly,” I said, “slow down. Tell us wh
at’s going on.”

  “Whoever has it can bring the Bone Lord here. But it has to be on the night of a new moon. The dark nights.”

  I looked at her.

  “Tomorrow night,” she said. “Geesh, don’t you guys even pay attention?”

  #

  Brindar went to the NHLF, and I headed for Orc Town. There were at least two large families there that I was on good terms with, and before long there were members of both the Tollerson and Wulfonson clans scouring the streets.

  Lilly was covering the watchhouse, so I headed into the Stews, and steeling myself, dropped down below a certain grate that I recognized and talked to the rat-men. They went about their business with hardly anyone noticing them and got into a lot of places.

  All of it turned up nothing. Brindar had no luck, I came up empty, and Lilly arrived home late and exhausted. Nothing the Watch tried paid off either.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said.

  “For now, lets try to get some sleep. Maybe we’ll figure out more in the morning.”

  Neither of us slept well. My sleep was filled with dreams of what the Bone Lord would be, and the things he could do. I was sure my imagination was worse than any reality could be. Even with all the crazy things Lilly and I had seen.

  The morning cast no bright light on our thoughts, or on anything else. The rain was coming down in buckets and the sky was so overcast that it felt like it was late evening. I morosely gazed out the window, not thrilled by the prospect of walking around in that downpour.

  Lilly was up already, book open on the table in front of her and cup of coffee steaming close to hand. I got my own and joined her.

  “How long have you been up?” I asked.

  “A good part of the night,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink. “I’ve been trying to find out anything I can about this Bone Lord, but all I could discover was that he’s a Lord of the Pit. Which means no matter what, he’s bad news.”

  I shrugged. “So? Let him pop up and I’ll shoot him. Now that I know his name, he’s as good as done for.” I was that confident in my gun.

  “Don’t be so sure. Look at Fogwell. Even with his name the gun only drove him away. Frankly, I’m surprised he never showed back up for a rematch. A Lord of the Pit would be even worse. Plus, they tend to have their plans laid in advance. Remember the Death Knight?”

  I did. Not that I wanted to. The gun wouldn’t even fire when I tried to shoot him. While I was still confident that we’d defeat this Bone Lord guy whenever he showed up, I was getting more nervous about it.

  “Still…” I started.

  “No,” Lilly interrupted me gently. “It’s not only the Bone Lord. What if he doesn’t come alone? He’s not the only Lord of the Pit, to say nothing of all the minions he probably has at his disposal.”

  I hadn’t considered that. Maybe I could kill the guy with one shot, but then that’d be it for the day. I’d have to wait until the next day to take out another unique being, if I even knew what their name was. It wasn’t going to be enough to say “Lord of the Pit”. I’d need each of their names individually.

  “You’ve got a point there,” I said. I stared down into my coffee. “How about Petal?”

  “I asked. The Brownies don’t know anything. They’ve never dealt with the Pit and didn’t even recognize the language. Maybe, and it’s no definite, they could keep us safe here in the house, but that’s it. The city itself would still become a hell on earth.”

  I drew in a breath as I glanced out the window at the gray curtain of falling rain. “Looks like I’m getting wet.”

  And I did. Soaked to the skin, within moments of stepping outside. I never felt rain like that before and it didn’t let up for a moment. Just the right kind of day for summoning a demon from the netherworld, I thought as I slogged along. The worst part was that I had no idea where I was even going. There were no leads.

  I decided to go back to the source and start over. At the very least, if I found Brindar at the Academy I could make him come with me and get soaked, too. There is no discomfort that can’t be made a little better by sharing it with your friends.

  The guards let me in without question this time, presumably due to a dressing down from Brindar. I walked into the darkened museum, seeking either him or Vanstonesun. Even with the torches blazing away on the walls, the day was so dank and dreary that it made everything seem underlit.

  I asked one of the newly stationed interior guards and was told that Brindar wasn’t there. He was already patrolling the streets, searching for the shield-thief himself. Well, he probably had the right idea. Even in this horrible weather we could cover a lot more ground by splitting up.

  Speaking of, we could cover even more if I enlisted a few others. Raven came to mind, although trying to convince that supercilious ass to come out in the rain wasn’t likely to work. Maybe if I told him it was for Lilly…

  My musings were interrupted as I approached the empty display where the shield previously sat. A dwarf was already there, and at first, I thought he was cleaning the stand or maybe even getting set to take it apart. But when I neared I heard him mumbling to himself.

  The sound of it raised the hairs on the back of my neck. It wasn’t dwarvish. Not that I understood that language, but I recognized it when I heard it. It wasn’t orcish, or any other language that I was familiar with either. Then I heard the words “Galog Ossimarie”, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

  The words were much clearer than when I fumbled them. Clear enough that there was no doubt in my mind that this fellow, whoever he was, was speaking the language of the Pit, and had just intoned the name of the Bone Lord.

  He was so intent in what he was doing that he never noticed me coming up behind him, pulling my gun from my belt, and bashing him in the back of the head with it. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

  #

  Director Vanstonesun accompanied me and the two large dwarves who dragged the guy to the watchhouse. At first, the director was reluctant to let a dwarf be taken, but I convinced him that it was only because that was where Lilly would be. We made a strange, yet mostly unseen, parade as we wound our way through the rainy streets.

  “Who is he?” Lilly asked the Director. The dwarf I caught was tied to a chair in a cell. We weren’t taking any chances with him. And rather than a junior watchman, Sarge himself booked him in, taking my word for it that despite appearances, this was one we needed to be careful with.

  “I don’t know,” Vanstonesun said. “He’s not one of my workers, although it is possible he works for the Academy itself. But they have turned the building over to us for the time being. There should be no one working there who isn’t employed by me.”

  “I don’t think he was working,” I grumbled.

  “Are you sure of what you heard?” Lilly asked me.

  “Absolutely. You told me that you let me read that line in your book because I wouldn’t pronounce it right. Well, I’m pretty sure this guy did it just fine.”

  We all took a second to consider the dripping figure in the chair. Even for a dwarf he was small, and his beard wasn’t as full as most male dwarves. It was ratty and torn, with patches that were missing. His hair was plastered to his head, as was everyone else’s who had been outside, but it also was missing in places. His hands and arms were covered with sores and burns. And there was an unpleasant odor coming from him. More than from someone like Crumbly Bob who never bathed, it was that plus a subtle undertone of burnt garbage.

  “Can we wake him?” Lilly said.

  I stepped up, hesitant to touch him, then shook his shoulder. His breathing changed, but he didn’t wake. I shook harder, to the same result.

  Sarge snorted, went away and returned a few minutes later with a bucket. “Watch out,” he said, and then doused the already soaked dwarf with a face-full.

  That did the trick. The dwarf spluttered, spit and sat up as much as the ropes would allow, looking around him wildly.

  Any hope I harbor
ed of getting information from him vanished when I saw his eyes. The crazy was oozing out of him.

  “Who are you?” Vanstonesun asked.

  The dwarf lowered his head, mumbling. Lilly leaned in, concentrating, then relaxed.

  “I say,” Vanstonesun tried again, “who are you? Why were you messing about with one my exhibits?”

  Suddenly the dwarf shot upright, staring at the director with wide eyes. Flecks flew from his lips as he shouted, “I am the one to prepare the way! I will give him my flesh! I will give him my bones! He will come and reward those who have honored him! The rest will burn, and die, and weep, and wail, and die and die and DIE!”

  As if exhausted by his tirade, his head sunk back down onto his chest and he resumed his muttering.

  I stepped forward, grabbed his scraggly beard and pulled his head up so that he had to look at me. His eyes kept darting to the sides, refusing to focus on mine.

  “I’m going to kill this Bone Lord when he shows up,” I growled. “And you’re going to live in a hole for the rest of your life. Where’s the shield?”

  He started to laugh, quietly. Then, in a whisper. “I am the one who prepares the way. My blood will anoint the gateway. My flesh will provide his sustenance. I am the one.”

  Then he started his muttering again. His fingers were trying to reach the knots that bound him, but Sarge knew his business and there was no way he would be able to untie himself.

  I released him and stepped back, unsure of what to do now.

  Lilly stepped away from the dwarf and out of the cell, motioning the rest of us to do the same.

  Sarge shut the cell door, made sure it was locked and we all followed out to the main room of the watchhouse.

  “Let him go,” Lilly told Sarge.

  “What?” all three of us exploded at the same time.

  “Not right now. Wait until it’s starting to get dark. I was going to say make it look like an accident, but he’s so far gone I don’t think it matters.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I don’t know if I can do that, Lilly,” Sarge said.

  “You can because I’m a ranking member of the Watch,” she replied. Then to me, “And we’re going to be here, right outside, and we’ll follow him, wherever he goes. I know what he’s going to do.”