The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat

Home > Other > The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat > Page 33
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 33

by Trevor H. Cooley


  Gwyrtha growled at the scent of it.

  “That’s Talon’s tail.” Justan felt a surge of hope. “Were you able to kill her?”

  “I cut its tail free just as it pierced Latva,” Alfred said, then added bitterly, “I wasn’t fast enough. We struggled and I stabbed the beast through the heart, but it managed to hurl itself from a window. I can only assume it survived the fall, because it’s not there now.”

  “You stabbed it? Through the heart?” said Randolf with a snort. The air wizard’s golden robes were pristine. He had been in the library teaching a late class when the attacks happened. “Since when did you carry a blade, gnome?”

  Alfred thumbed the grip on his cane and pulled a long, thin blade from within the wood. A soft ringing split the air and the blade glittered in the light for a few quick moments before he slammed it back into the cane.

  “Gnomish steel,” Lenny’s bushy red eyebrows were raised in wonder. “Ain’t seen one of them in decades.”

  “Alfred was a gnome warrior before he was a bonding wizard,” Valtrek explained.

  “You’re kidding me,” said Hugh the Shadow, eyeing the gnome with admiration. Gnome warriors were rarely seen outside Alberri, but they were said to be the most dangerous of foes, a gnome that had eschewed scholarly pursuits at a young age to focus solely on fighting.

  “And who gave you permission to give out such information, Wizard Valtrek?” Alfred gnome asked with a glare.

  “What reason is there to hide it now?” Valtrek said with a roll of his eyes. “They know everything else about you and Latva and, since it seems that Talon survived, Mellinda does too.”

  “What are our known casualties?” Faldon asked.

  “On the High Council, we lost Wizard Munsey,” Valtrek said. “There were six other fire wizards with him, some of the most powerful in the school and only two of them survived. Wizardess Landra was one of the dead. We also know about a handful of mages and two cadets that were killed.” He sighed. “Promising students all of them, and the numbers could rise.” Justan noticed he didn’t mention the slain prisoners.

  “We lost Sabre Vlad,” Willum said. He swallowed and his back stiffened. “It wouldn’t have happened in a fair fight, but the thing just came out of the dark. Caught him by surprise.”

  The warriors in the room bowed their heads in respect.

  “Don’t forget Forgemaster Stanley,” Bettie added. Her face was drawn and sad. She had gotten to know the academy armorer quite well since they arrived at the school. “He was in the center square when that striped one attacked.”

  “The loss of those two men alone would have been a heavy blow,” Oz the Dagger said, rubbing his chin. “But beyond the loss of their skill, we have a bigger problem. Six creatures attacked us tonight. Only six! And they managed to get past our defenses and kill our leaders. How are the students and refugees supposed to feel safe now? What kind of panic will we be dealing with when a large force arrives?”

  “We can’t let them see it that way,” Hugh said. “We need to show them that we survived. Let the people know we won.”

  “So we set the bodies of these things on display,” Randolf said. “Let them see what we were up against.”

  “What? And give the students nightmares about those terrible things?” Darlan said in disgust. She shook her head. “No, you’ll have them seeing raptoids around every corner.” Randolf scowled at her tone, but she ignored him. “Show the creatures to the leadership and the wizards if you must. For the others, talk only of the heroes that defeated the beasts and the tragic loss of our great fallen. Make them angry. Make them proud so that when the enemy comes they will fight.”

  “And that’s why they call her a war wizard,” Faldon said with a smile.

  “Why didn’t these things melt?” Willum asked, looking at the raptoid remains. “All the rest of Ewzad Vriil’s monsters turned into goo when they died.”

  Justan knew the answer but it couldn’t be spoken aloud. If Ewzad Vriil ever learned the truth, he would find a way to make all of his creations stable. The damage he could do with that knowledge would be devastating.

  “I’m not sure, Willum,” Locksher said as he sawed at one of the spikes on the striped raptoid’s back. “I’ll do some tests when I get back to my rooms and let you know. Perhaps it’s something unique with them being raptoids.” Justan swallowed. He needed to have a conversation with the wizard later.

  “I got a different question,” Lenny said, his face pinched. His eyes were filled with something akin to guilt. “Where’d Vriil get six dag-blamed raptoids in the first place? Fer that matter, where’s he gettin’ all the blasted animals he’s been makin’ monsters with?”

  “Dwarven smugglers,” Valtrek said, eyeing Lenny’s expression with interest.

  “Dag-blast it!” Lenny said stomping his foot. “Someone should’ve told me sooner. Hell, I should’ve guessed it myself. Dag-blast it! Which ones are supplyin’ him?”

  “Dwarven smugglers?” Justan asked. He’d never heard of such a thing.

  “Dark magic dealers mostly,” Faldon said. “They’re responsible for most of the slave trading and elf contraband in the known lands. We have run-ins with them all the time when we’re out on jobs.”

  “I’m, pretty sure he’s dealing with a branch of the Corntown Smugglers, Lenui,” Valtrek said. “They were masquerading as a dwarf menagerie and our spy described them as wearing handlebar mustaches.”

  “Garl-friggin’ son of a dog!” Lenny swore. “Did he see their leader? What’s his name?”

  “According to my source, he didn’t give a name,” Valtrek said. “He just demanded they call him ‘Ringmaster’. Other than that, the only other information I have is that he has black hair and had a larger mustache than the others.”

  “That dag-burned, hoop-skirtin’, corn-jiggin’, mother brother!” Lenny exclaimed.

  “Do you know him?” Justan asked. He’d wondered about Lenny’s past many times. Why had Gwyrtha hated him for so long? Why did he seemed worried about other dwarves who wore a mustache the way he did? But the dwarf never wanted to talk about it.

  “Yes, durn it, he’s my uncle,” Lenny said with a scowl. “Name’s Blayne.”

  “Can you tell us anything that could help us know what’s coming next?” Valtrek asked. “What else might they bring him?”

  “I can do you one better.” Lenny said. “I can tell you what yer spy can say to call that coonhound off.”

  “You can get them to leave?” Valtrek said in surprise. “Break their contract with Ewzad Vriil?”

  “I can tell you what to say to have ‘em out of Dremaldria ‘fore the sun hits their arses,” Lenny promised. “No more raptoids. No more other monsters he can use, unless he’s got another source.”

  “How could you know a thing like that?” Faldon asked, looking at Lenny with puzzled eyes. “I’ve battled with Corntown smugglers before. They won’t leave a contract unfinished unless half of them are dead.”

  “Yeah, and even then they ain’t ‘posed to let up,” Lenny agreed. “It’s bad fer their reputation. My momma would kill ‘em her dag-gum self.”

  “Your momma?” Bettie asked, her brow lined with confusion.

  “My momma’s their gall-durn leader,” Lenny said with a sigh. He looked miserable just saying it. “Has been fer the last ninety years.”

  “Unbelievable,” Hugh the Shadow laughed. “We have smuggler royalty right here! Bloody Maggie’s son!”

  Lenny’s face was beet red. “Look, just tell yer spy to go to the main tent of the Menagerie. Tell ‘em you got a ‘price one message’ fer the ringmaster. Remember now. Price one! Blayne’ll be pissed when he comes, but just tell him exactly this. ‘Lenui says there ain’t no profit fer you here.’ He’ll demand to know why. You say ‘Maggie’s law’.”

  “Maggie’s Law?” Valtrek said.

  “That’ll do it.” He looked down at the floor. “You need me to repeat it?”

  “I’ll remember,”
the wizard promised.

  “Good. I’ll . . . be outside then,” Lenny said and made his way out the door.

  Justan stared after him, mouth open in wonder. Matron Guernfedt came into the hall a moment later with news on the casualty count. As the others talked, Bettie came over to Justan and pulled him aside. Despite the soot on her face, the muscular half-orc was looking prettier than usual. Justan’s mother had told him that pregnant women had a glow about them. Maybe this was what she meant. If so, that was the only way Justan would have been able to tell. Her belly only showed the slightest bit of a bulge.

  “Listen here,” Bettie said, grabbing his earlobe. Her fingers were rough and callused and Justan winced as she pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear. Her whisper was as loud as most people’s speaking voice. “You go and talk to Lenui. Find out what’s bugging him. I’ve never seen him looking so sore.”

  “Why don’t you talk to him yourself?” Justan asked, pulling out of her grasp.

  She scowled and grabbed his ear again. “Ever since he learned he put a baby in me Lenui ain’t been himself. Until he smartens up, I ain’t lettin’ him cry on my shoulder. Besides, he’s got a soft spot for you. He’ll talk to you.”

  Justan pulled free again, half expecting to leave half of his ear behind. “Fine. I’ll go.”

  “Good! And make sure you set his brain on straight. Tell him he sure as hell better tell me about his momma. His future wife should know these things,” Bettie said, punctuating her declaration with a firm nod.

  Justan swallowed and walked to the door. Gwyrtha came right behind him. He was relieved to see that she had resumed her regular size and form. It was impressive how quickly she had done it.

  Can I come too? Fist asked. He was still standing there propping Valtrek up.

  I’m sorry, Fist. He looks like he still needs your help. The wizard was practically sagging in the ogre’s arms. Besides, you can let me know if any new news comes in.

  Could I at least get him a chair? Fist complained.

  Justan chuckled. I’m sure that would be fine, he said and exited the room.

  Lenny hadn’t gotten far. Justan saw the dwarf walking towards the center square. Likely, he was going back to the forge to work out his frustrations. Justan hurried, hoping to grab him before the other dwarves pulled him aside. “Hey, Lenny!”

  “Huh?” the dwarf said, looking over his shoulder. “Oh. Hey, son.”

  “What’s going on?” Justan asked. “You got out of there quick.”

  “It’s shame, Edge,” Lenny said. “Dag-nab it, a past is a hard thing to hide from. You do somethin’ stupid and it always comes back to bite you in the arse.”

  Justan frowned. “But it’s your mother that’s the smuggler, not you.”

  “But it weren’t always-!” Lenny looked around, making sure no one had been close enough to listen, then grabbed Justan’s arm and pulled him around the corner of the dining hall. It wasn’t any more private. People were walking by, some of them nodding at them in recognition. “Well, I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout this where folks’ll hear.”

  “Okay, then,” Justan said and led Lenny back past the Hall of Elements, bringing him to the edge of the Mage School forest. He stopped at the treeline. “Here we are, no one here to hear your shame.”

  “You ain’t bein’ funny,” Lenny said with a frown.

  “Come on. It can’t be too bad. You’re Lenny Firegobbler, Master Weaponsmith, The Hero of Lightning Gap!” Justan said.

  “That’s Thunder Gap,” Lenny corrected. “But you don’t get it. That ain’t always been me.”

  Justan blinked. “So you were a smuggler too?”

  Lenny shifted his feet. “Gah! Back in my younger days, yeah! Look, here’s the thing. I’m from Corntown. If yer from Corntown, yer one of two things. Either a blacksmith or a gall-durn smuggler. Now the Firegobbler line is full of fine smithys. Grandpappy and daddy are both legends.”

  “And so are you,” Justan said.

  “Just listen, dag-gum it! Now I don’t know why I’m feelin’ like tellin’ this story, but if you don’t let me tell it proper, I probly won’t.”

  “Got it.” Justan reached up and mimed pinching his lips shut.

  Me too, Gwyrtha promised.

  Lenny gave them a suspicious glance, but nodded. “Right, then. So my daddy married twice. My stupid brother Chugk is from his second wife and so’s my sister.”

  Justan’s eyebrows rose at that, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

  “But I was born from his first love, Maggie. Now she was a Cragstalker and they was known trouble, most of ‘em turned smuggler. Maggie’s daddy was their leader at the time, but she promised him she’d left that life behind and my daddy let himself believe it. Grandpappy was pissed, but daddy married her anyways.

  “I was born soon afterwards. Life was durn good fer a little dwarf. Daddy’d let me play ‘round in the forge and momma’d tell me excitin’ stories ‘bout her daddy outrunnin’ the law. Then one day, out of the blue, momma grabbed me’n took off. Now I was sixteen at the time and she was promisin’ adventure. Daddy was keepin’ me workin’ in the forge and adventure sounded real good right then.

  “So we left. Momma took me back with her to the Cragstalkers. It was fun at first. They taught me how to ride horses. How to rustle critters. How to fight. But when I turned twenty, that’s when they started takin’ me on smugglin’ runs. I saw some dark friggin’ stuff then. The Cragstalkers did business with some nasty damned wizards, I tell you. I done seen things that’d turn yer liver green.”

  “My liver?” Justan asked, trying to picture how that was possible.

  “But they kept me from the real bad stuff fer a couple more years. ‘Till they thought I could handle it,” Lenny said. His lip twisted in revulsion. “That’s when they showed me my first elf blood slave. They called him Palky. Maggie’s daddy’d stole him from his homeland when he was just a babe. They raised him stupid, so’s he wouldn’t be smart ‘nough to run away. Then they’d cut on him or bleed him if a wizard paid ‘nough for it. He was all scarred up’n wild.”

  He shuddered. “Now I didn’t have nothin’ to do with that part, but the point is, son, I was there. I was in the blasted thick of it. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t do nothin’. Least not then. Not till I saw them sell a rogue horse.”

  Gwyrtha growled.

  Lenny walked over and rubbed her head. “I know darlin’. I know. I’m real damn sorry’n I understand if you hate me forever fer this. But I gotta tell the dag-gum truth to you right now.” He looked into her eyes. “My grandpappy Cragstalker was the son of the dag-blamed dwarf who rustled yer kin.”

  “Your great grandfather captured the rogue horses?” Justan asked.

  “He did,” Lenny said and Gwyrtha growled again. “They was braggin ‘bout it. Called it the biggest Cragstalker score in history. Jedd Cragstalker was Stardeon’s monster supplier back then. Helped him make the rogues. Now they didn’t say Stardeon’s name when they told me the story, but I figgered it out when Old John told us his story.

  “They was content to act within their contract, but then the big quake hit the land. Stardeon run off, leavin’ the rogues behind, so Jedd rounded ‘em up and took ‘em fer himself. Started sellin’ ‘em off to the highest dag-burned bidder. Them purse snatchers didn’t care who they sold ‘em to. Just whoever could pay. And they charged a king’s fortune, too.

  “Anyways, when I was with ‘em they’d already done sold all the rogue horses ‘cept fer two. They was real sweet too. I gotta ride ‘em. Don’t know what their real names was. The Cragstalkers just called ‘em ‘gold’ and ‘more gold’. One was part gorilla and one was part dog.

  “I was there the day they sold the part-dog one. We took him to a place in Alberri. There was a real rich gnome there. A scholar. He paid fer it, took it, and slit its throat.” Lenny’s face twisted in anger and his eyes swelled with tears. “Right there in front of me, Edge. That friggin’ gnome killed that sweet r
ogue like it was nothin’. Poor thing didn’t even struggle. Just laid there lookin’ confused. The gnome filled up a glass with its blood. Drank it, and cut some parts of it free. Then they left its corpse to rot.”

  Gwyrtha let out a keening moan and Lenny held her, telling her over and over that he was sorry. Her sorrow cut through the bond and Justan had to swallow back tears of his own.

  Did you know him? Justan asked her.

  Don’t know, she said, but it didn’t matter. There were many with dog in them. Father liked dogs.

  “The night we got back, I went out to the pasture and rode the gorilla rogue. I took him to the edge and busted some of the dag-burned fence down, makin’ it look like it was done from the outside. Then when I turned to set him free, I saw a man standin’ there watchin’ me. It was the dag-gum prophet. John asked me what I was doin’. I didn’t want to say, but then he told me who he was. He called me by name. Don’t know how he knew my name, but he asked me if a smuggler’s life was what I wanted. I told him I didn’t know. Then he took the rogue and left.

  “I decided to leave the Cragstalkers, but I waited a week or two, just so’s they wouldn’t know it was me let the rogue go.” Lenny gave a half grin. “Oh, them smugglers was dag-burned pissed. I was scairt, but I had a hard time keepin’ from smilin’ every time Grandpappy Cragstalker let out a curse. Then I went back to my daddy’s house and asked him to take me back in. Told him I wanted to be a smithy like him.”

  Gwyrtha licked his face. Lenny grimaced and spat. “Hell, girl, if yer gonna eat me, just do it whole.”

  “She forgives you, Lenny,” Justan said. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You came out all right in the end, I think.”

  “Really, girl?” Lenny said. He turned her head so he could look in both of her eyes. She licked him again.

  “Now you need to go back and tell Bettie this story,” Justan said.

  Lenny paused in his attempts to wipe the slobber from his face long enough to look at Justan like he was crazy. “You think I’m a dag-blasted idjit?”

 

‹ Prev