Fenzig's Fortune_A Gnome's Tale

by Jean Rabe

  “And we caught him,” Carmella finished, bending over and gingerly taking the wizard from the gnome. She grimaced when she noticed the old man was pale and that his robes were spotted with blood. With her index finger, she felt about his ribs. “I think I hit him a little too hard,” she said as she tugged the tiny gag from his mouth and felt his forehead with her fingertip. It was hot from a fever. “And he refused to eat or drink anything during the trip.”

  “I’ve attendants who can see to him,” the duke said. He gazed at the diminutive wizard sitting in Carmella’s palm. “But I want your sisters tended to first. Do you understand, wizard? I want my daughters whole again.”

  Though obviously in pain, the miniature wizard looked defiant.

  Carmella knelt and set the tiny figure in front of the fireplace. Taking a step back, she concentrated and closed her eyes. Her fingers traced a colorful pattern of pale green light in the air. The pattern expanded to take in the wizard; then the pattern grew—as did the old man. Within moments, the wizard was full-sized again. He looked much worse, now that everyone could see him more clearly. He sat down, breathing harshly, and his lips were tinged faintly blue.

  “I’ll get my attendants, a healer,” the duke offered.

  “I don’t want your healing, Rehmir,” the wizard cursed. “I want to see you crushed by my master, King Erlgrane. He’ll have these lands—even if it means your wretched life. If he can’t have them through marriage to one of your daughters, he’ll gain them by force. They’ll be his. Just wait and see. I will not restore your daughters to you.”

  “Then let him come try to take my lands,” the duke said hotly.

  “He will,” the wizard hissed, “but he’ll try to take the gems first. He’s consumed with the idea of possessing them. It’s all he’s talked about recently.”

  “Erlgrane’s mad,” Fenzig whispered.

  “Madness and genius are often confused,” the wizard returned. “I prefer to consider my king in the latter category, and he’s wise enough to know that if he has the emeralds—your daughters—he will have your land and your loyalty, willingly given or not. And from your precious land, he can more easily strike out with his armies, envelope the Northern Reaches and beyond. He intends to control everything to the north seacoast and perhaps even to the west.”

  “The gnome’s right,” the duke said. “The king is mad.”

  “Maybe he’ll have me turn your last daughter into a gem, too, another bauble for his collection,” the wizard sneered. “Or maybe I’ll cast the spell without his bidding. Is your land more valuable to you than your own flesh and blood? Or do you so badly want another emerald to decorate your mantel—one more jewel for my king to take?”

  Fenzig saw the duke shudder, the wizard’s venomous words hitting a soft spot. The portly man’s shoulders sagged, and his lips trembled. “If I just give him my lands maybe he’ll give my daughters back their lives and leave them alone,” Duke Rehmir said sadly. “I’m tired of looking at them, sitting above the fireplace. I don’t want anything to happen to Carmella. I . . .”

  “Father, no!” Carmella barked. “You can’t mean it! What about the people of K’Nosha? What about . . .”

  Her words trailed off as the wizard let out a groan. Carmella and the duke turned to look at the old man. The gnome was standing behind him, his small fingers pressed into the wizard’s throat.

  “You’re dying,” the gnome spat at the wizard. “You’re dying, and you know it. The king’s attendants might be able to save you. Maybe. He’s got a few skilled healers, so all the townsfolk say. If you want the chance to live—the chance to serve your mad king for a few more years—then you’d better save the duke’s daughters. Your giving them back their lives will not affect any struggle between the king and Duke Rehmir. In fact, you’re not doing anything could guarantee a war. If you die, Duke Rehmir’s daughters will always be gems. I’d say that gives the duke ample reason to war against Erlgrane.”

  The wizard glowered at the duke and Carmella, then he gasped as Fenzig increased his grip.

  “So, wizard,” the gnome continued. “If you care for your king, you’ll do something about the duke’s daughters.”

  The mage twisted his head and tried to dislodge the gnome’s fingers, but Fenzig was strong and healthy, and the wizard was weak.

  “Your answer,” Fenzig growled. “You can’t serve your king if you’re dead, and without your releasing the spell, your king could be attacked. Your decision.”

  “I will try to return Rehmir’s daughters,” the wizard said finally. His voice was strained because of Fenzig’s viselike grip. “But I can make no guarantees. Know you that the spell I cast on them is years old.”

  “Five years,” the duke replied.

  “Enchantments that old are sometimes hard to break.”

  “I have every confidence in you,” the duke added.

  “I will need to stand.”

  Fenzig shook his head fervently. The gnome wouldn’t release his grip until the duke nodded.

  “If you try anything,” Duke Rehmir began, “you’ll find my fingers about your throat. And I can guarantee I will lead my men against Erlgrane.” He helped the wizard to his feet and untied the old man’s hands.

  The wizard’s eyes narrowed to thin slits, and he glanced at Fenzig and Carmella. The pair of thieves were standing together, near the emeralds spaced evenly on the floor in front of the fireplace.

  “I do this because you give me no real option,” the wizard said, “and because your daughters are not to blame for your idiocy.” Then he doubled over, coughing and wheezing, and the duke grabbed him and supported him about the waist. “If this works, Duke Rehmir, you will have all your daughters again, but you will still lose. King Erlgrane will triumph in the end. He will find a way to come take your daughters as easily as he could find thieves to steal the emeralds. He is more powerful than you realize.”

  The duke started to reply but thought better of it. He stood quietly and watched the old mage weave a pattern of golden light in the air. The wizard mumbled a singsong chant filled with ancient melodic words. His voice rose and cracked as the light pattern brightened, then the glow seemed to move of its own volition to encompass the emeralds.

  Fenzig held his breath, praying that the old wizard wasn’t performing one last evil deed by further harming the duke’s daughters. But as the gnome watched, he saw a bit of brightness come to the wizard’s eyes.

  The emeralds shimmered, and the light that surrounded the gems was quickly absorbed by them. Their facets sparkled with an unearthly beauty and held Carmella, Fenzig, the guards, and the duke spellbound. It looked like green fire captured inside hunks of crystal. Then the light started to fade, and the emeralds grew dark, almost black.

  “No!” the duke cried. “This can’t be. Please . . .” Before he could finish, the darkened gems shattered. In their place on the floor in front of the fireplace, three beautiful women stood, all with dark hair and eyes that flashed like Carmella’s.

  The duke rushed forward to embrace them. The wizard, no longer supported, fell to the floor in a heap. Carmella stepped toward her sisters, tears streaming down her face, happy to join in the family reunion.

  Fenzig felt like an intruder on the cheerful scene and turned his attention on the wizard. He padded toward the old man and sat on the floor next to him. The wizard’s eyes were fixed, and a thin trickle of blood spilled from his mouth.

  “He’s dead,” Fenzig whispered.

  “You’re alive and well!” the duke cried to his daughters.

  15

  Family Reunion

  “My name is Elayne.”

  Smiling sweetly, the tallest of the girls bent over to shake the gnome’s small hand. She had flowing blond hair, the color of corn silk, with soft blue eyes that lent her face a kind appearance. “I can’t thank you enough, Fenzighan,” she said. “I owe you my life, truly. I never thought I’d be human again. I never thought I’d be able to talk again, or to t
ouch my sisters.”

  “Neither did I. I’m Ruthe,” another girl interjected. She didn’t at all resemble Elayne, her hair was much darker, the shade of walnut tree bark, and her eyes were bright and intense. Her voice was a bit stronger and lower pitched, almost sultry. The gnome immediately decided he liked listening to it. “You answered my prayers, wee-one. I was the emerald in the middle, and I was so tired of sitting on that mantel, watching father stare at us. His eyes haunted me.”

  Ruthe’s voice mesmerized Fenzig, and he listened to every word. Questions tumbled, one after another, from her lips: near musical queries of what had happened in K’Nosha and Burlengren during the past several years, where Carmella had been, and how Carmella and their father had found such a fine, small hero to rescue them. The duke did his best to answer her, but even he seemed a bit overwhelmed.

  Fenzig decided this daughter looked so much like Carmella they could pass for twins–provided they wore their hair the same. Ruthe’s eyes sparkled in the light streaming in through the window—just as Carmella’s sparkled when she sold her wares, and he found himself wishing Ruthe would go on talking forever just so he could listen to her enchanting voice.

  Grinning at the gnome and finally stopping her stream of sentences, Ruthe knelt on the floor in front of him and kissed the top of his head. “And this is Berthrice,” she added, indicating the third girl. “Our oldest sister.”

  Berthrice glanced at the gnome and scowled. “It was horrible,” Berthrice began in a voice as grating as Ruthe’s was pleasant. Her blue eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if she were trying to draw herself all into one spot, giving her a pinched appearance. She looked uncomfortable. “Maybe I should have accepted King Erlgrane’s proposal five years ago. I’ll grant you he is an evil man, but I don’t think living with him could possibly have been worse than living on that mantel. Never moving. Never . . .”

  “Berth!” Elayne snapped. “How can you say that? Erlgrane never wanted you. He never really wanted any of us. He wants only the land and father’s manor.”

  “I’ll tell you how I can say that!” Berthrice snapped back. She drew herself even closer together, drew her lips into a thin, unbecoming line. “It felt as if an eternity passed while we sat on that mantel. I could see everything. All of us could see everything.”

  “See?” the duke asked.

  “See!” Berthrice hissed. “See! He should have blinded us while he was at it. All we could see was this damnable study and Father’s sorrowful face!”

  Fenzig looked at her quizzically, wondered how she could be so different from her sisters and how her voice could sound . . . sound . . . so much like a hungry crow.

  “While emeralds, we could see, we could smell the smoke from Father’s pipe.” Wiping a tear from her flushed cheek, Berthrice turned to Duke Rehmir. “Day after day, I saw you come into the study, Father. You’d sit in the chair and watch us. Sometimes you’d cry. Sometimes you’d just smoke your pipe and stare at us. I was angry that you couldn’t do anything to break the wizard’s spell–that it looked like you were doing nothing. I was angry that Carmella was still human, that she was spared. That spell was a terrible curse, worse than death. When you weren’t here we saw only the furniture and the walls. The view never changed. It was madness.”

  The duke swallowed hard. “I wasn’t aware you could see, or smell, or . . .”

  “And hear,” Elayne added. “We heard everything.”

  “We heard you talking to us,” Ruthe broke in. “When you’d come in here late at night and talk to us, pretending that we were still flesh and blood and were listening, that made things bearable.”

  The duke grabbed Ruthe’s hand and squeezed it gently. “My life is bearable now that all of you are back, no matter what Erlgrane threatens me with next.”

  “That wagon ride wasn’t bearable,” Berthrice said. Still venting her rage, she continued to complain, starting tapping her narrow foot. “When Carmella put us in the sack of flour in the wagon, I thought we were finished. All that white! It was like being stuck inside a warm snowbank. And then you plucked us out and kept handling us,” she added to the gnome. “You ogled us and ran your dirty little fingers over us. Worse, I thought you were going to drop us when the wagon bounced down the road. What if you had dropped us? What if we’d cracked? We could have died!”

  “But we didn’t,” Elayne said. She put her arm around Berthrice and gently hugged her. “Yes, it was horrible. But it’s over now thanks to Fenzig and Carmella. We’re not on the mantel anymore—or in a sack of flour. We’ve a grand life ahead of us. We have a lot of catching up to do. And we’ve no reason to dwell on the lost years. Let it be behind us—forever.”

  Berthrice nodded, her facial expression softening a little. Then she looked down on the gnome again. “Thank you for saving me,” she said finally and with what appeared to Fenzig to be some effort. “Thank you for saving my sisters, too.”

  Fenzig stared at the three beautiful human girls. He tried to imagine what it must have been like to sit for five years as gems on a mantel, always watching and hearing what was going on around them, but not able to interact with each other or anyone else. The gnome shuddered. Indeed, it would have been horrible. He was pleased and proud that he had been instrumental in saving them.

  Carmella moved so silently up behind Fenzig that the gnome didn’t hear her. He jumped when she tickled the top of his head. “We all owe you a big thank-you,” Carmella said. Her voice had a happy lilt to it, and Fenzig’s grin became even broader. “You’ve given us a family reunion. I have to admit that I never thought I’d see my sisters again.”

  “I never thought I’d have a family again,” the duke added.

  “And I was surprised to see Erlgrane’s wizard,” Elayne said. “I can’t say I’m sorry he’s dead.”

  “No,” Fenzig added, thinking about all the poor animals in the wizard’s laboratory. “But what are you going to do with his body?”

  Duke Rehmir and his four daughters glanced at the wizard’s form.

  The duke sighed and padded over to it. “I’ll have the wizard’s body sent back to King Erlgrane,” Duke Rehmir said. “That will make Erlgrane even more angry, but the wizard should be buried where he lived. I can’t send the body to his relatives—the wizard kept his name hidden, so no one knows who his relatives might be.”

  “Why not just bury him here and let King Erlgrane wonder what happened to him?” Fenzig considered that the best option. “Dead is dead. The wizard isn’t going to care where you bury his body.”

  The duke drew his lips together, tapped a finger against them in thought. “That wouldn’t be proper. Besides, I suspect Erlgrane has ways of finding out what occurred. Perhaps he has lesser wizards in his employ who can divine what happened. In any event, I sense a long-overdue confrontation coming between myself and the king.”

  “A war?” the gnome queried.

  “Perhaps, but it’s not very likely. I know if Erlgrane tries to bring his troops here, he will lose. Mine is the greater force—and even if he is mad, he has to realize that.”

  “Besides,” Carmella interjected, “the people of Burlengren might rise up against King Erlgrane if he makes war on us. They don’t want a fight that will threaten the lives of their men—whom the king would likely call into service. K’Nosha and Burlengren have been peaceful for decades. I don’t think anyone except the king wants that to change.”

  Fenzig was surprised the woman knew so much about politics and the affairs of cities, having been on the road as a peddler for so long. The gnome wondered if she would stay with the duke, who seemed like a reasonable man—for a wealthy potentate anyway.

  The duke’s four daughters stood behind him. Three of them looked almost identical in elegant, fancy dresses and artfully styled hair—and chattering like twittering birds nonstop. They looked young, as if they hadn’t aged a day while they were gems.

  Carmella had cleaned up and was wearing new clothes,
but they consisted of dark blue leggings and a light blue tunic—somber daytime attire for someone who frequently wore a clashing rainbow. The duke just stood there and beamed at his daughters.

  “I need to be on my way,” Fenzig said at last. He looked out the window of the study and saw that the sun was nearing its lunchtime position.

  “Won’t you stay and have a meal with us first?” the duke asked. His tone was gracious. He was treating Fenzig as an equal now, not like the contemptible thief he’d viewed the gnome as a few days ago.

  “Well, I am rather hungry,” the gnome quipped.

  “And my father’s cooks are awfully good,” Carmella added.

  That said, Fenzig stayed for three more days, enjoying the meals Duke Rehmir’s excellent staff prepared. He ate more than he had in the last two weeks put together, which satisfied his gnome stomach. This one final dinner, he told himself. Then I need to be gone.

  “I’m amazed you can eat so much and not gain any weight,” Carmella giggled.

  “It’s part of being a gnome,” Fenzig said as he reached for his third piece of cinnamon-peach pie.

  It was nearing sunset now, and the gnome made it clear he wanted to start back to Graespeck. Despite pleas from Carmella and her sisters that he stay overnight, he declined. He knew that if he stayed much longer, he’d be tempted not to leave at all. The duke’s estate was fancy, and the food was very, very good. There were a few other gnomes here, in Duke Rehmir’s employ. He’d have like company. But the estate was just too grand to suit his tastes.

  “I really must be going,” he repeated.

  “Then before you go, I’d like to repay you for saving my daughters—all of my daughters,” Duke Rehmir said. “Come with me.”

  Fenzig was led into a back corner of the manse, where guards were plentiful. On a nod from the duke, one of them produced a leather bag, one that was nearly two feet long and about half that wide.