By the time Grimbledung walked up to him, RatShambler had a large pile of truffles formed in the shade of the tree.
“That there is a big ole pile of truffles,” remarked Grimbledung.
“It’s several gold coins worth of them, as a matter of fact.”
Grimbledung dropped the box. “Just a minute! You’re telling me you can find several gold coins worth of truffles without any issue or time and yet you let me hawk used wands all day?”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
Grimbledung pointed at the pile. “Then what is that?”
“Several gold coins worth of truffles. Just like I said.”
Grimbledung hopped back and forth. “Say! Why am I selling wands all day long? And even worse; why did we live in a drafty barn for years?”
“That’s easy to explain, really.” RatShambler twitched his half-tail. “Simple even.”
“Fine then; explain it easily and simply to me.” Grimbledung crossed his arms.
“Truffles are indeed easy to find when there are a lot of them around. But when there aren’t any around, they are hard to find.”
“I imagine everything works that way. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“If a frog had wings, it wouldn’t hit its butt every time it jumped.”
Grimbledung stared at his friend for a moment. “Why aren’t you finding truffles on a daily basis, Rat?”
“Because they aren’t around.” RatShambler sat on his haunches. “Back in civilization where we live,” he pointed southward, “folks are always searching for mushrooms and truffles so there aren’t a lot to be found.” He pointed at the pile. “But out here where hardly anyone has come by in months, they are all over because no one has dug them up.”
Grimbledung put out his lower lip. “Fine, fine. That’s a reason but not a good one.”
RatShambler stood. “Well, it’s the reason we have a pile of them now but don’t when we’re in town.” He smiled. “But, from now on, every night when we stop, I’ll do a quick pass around our campsite and you can dig up any that are nearby. If nothing else, that will give us something we can barter with when we’re in town.”
Grimbledung clapped. “That is a brilliant idea, Rat!” He looked at the pile again. “Or we could just eat most all of them. Tasty things, truffles.”
RatShambler nodded. “Oh, that they are. Between those fish and these truffles, we should be eating well for the next few days. At least long enough to get us to a town.”
Grimbledung moved to the pile of truffles and began to put them in the pot. “Any that don’t fit we can put in my box.”
“Good idea. I’m starving. I hope Drimblerod has gotten enough wood to make a decent sized fire to roast these fish and smoke the rest overnight.”
“We could make fish soup.”
RatShambler stuck out his tongue. “Let’s save that as a last resort. I’m not too keen on mushy fish.”
Grimbledung tossed another truffle into the pot- it was now full. “I don’t think they’ll all fit even in the box. Should we pitch the fish?”
RatShambler shook his head. “Stuff them in your pockets if you have to.” He stood. “Or, take off your pants, tie the ends and use your pants as a sack!”
“Again with the brilliance!” Grimbledung loosened his belt and dropped his pants. He bent over and tied knots in the legs. “And I can use the belt as a sling to carry it.” He shoveled the rest of the truffles into his empty pants. After cinching the top with his belt, he tried to pick up his pants. “It’s too heavy, Rat. Can I sling them over your back?”
“If you had two you could. Just put the end of your belt around the pot’s handle and I’ll pick up both. I hope you can get the box because I can’t carry that as well.”
Grimbledung dragged his bulging pants to the pot and wrapped the end of his belt around the thick wire handle. He skipped back to the box. “Ahhh! There’s nothing like being au naturel out in the ol’ natural.”
RatShambler shook his head. “I really don’t hate to break it to you, but your pants go back on as soon as we get back to camp.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure Drimblerod will insist on it.”
Grimbledung shrugged. “Fine, fine.” He hefted the box. “Gads! Lead the way quick like, this thing’s heavy!”
The pair shuffled toward camp with Grimbledung only having to stop once to rest.
When they finally got to the camp, Drimblerod had his back to the pair, adding wood to a good-sized pile.
“Guess what we got, Drim!” Grimbledung called as he turned and walked backwards to hide the box.
Drimblerod looked at his partner. “Well, I haven’t been mooned in a good day and a half, so thanks for that.”
“Well it’s not on purpose, I can tell you that.”
“I can’t imagine it’s not on purpo…” He looked at RatShambler. “What in the lands are in your pants?”
“Truffles! It seems Rat is a truffle-finding fiend! He got the pot full. My pants full. And more on top of the fish!”
“That’s a lot of truffles.” Drimblerod moved to his partner and took the box. He grunted. “How many fish are in here?”
“Lots. Seems a whole school came by and they weren’t used to being fished so they all kept biting at the hook.”
“Nice, Grim, real nice.” He put the box down beside the wagon. “And great work on your part, Rat!”
RatShambler put the pot and Grimbledung’s pants down. “It’s easy to find them when you look where others haven’t picked the place clean.”
Drimblerod untied Grimbledung’s belt and let the truffles tumble out. He tossed the pants to his partner. “There you go, Grim.”
“See? Told you.” RatShambler chuckled.
Grimbledung frowned as he untied the pant legs. “You know, there’s nothing unnatural about being all natural out in nature, naturally.”
“Unnatural? No. Unappetizing? Yes.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Rat.” Drimblerod began pulling the truffles out of the box. He started tossing them on the ground, larger ones on one side of the growing pile, smaller ones on the other. “From what I recall, cooking these dissipates the flavor so we need to store them in one of the boxes and make sure they don’t dry out.” He smelled one deeply. “Oh yeah, we’ll slice, scrape, or grate these all over those fish and eggs and whatever else we find.” He smooched the truffle. “You scrumptious little accoutrement.” His ears perked up. “It’s an accoutrement, Grimbledung; I do not want to catch you eating these things all by themselves.”
“Oh, you won’t catch me.” Grimbledung assured his partner with a wink.
“Grimbledung Sixtoes, Esquire.” Drimblerod dropped the truffle onto the pile. “I hereby and forthwith forbid you from eating any truffles without the consent of a majority of our party.” He clapped his hands once and stomped his foot twice. “For the remainder of this journey.”
Grimbledung gaped at his partner. “Wha…? You dare to make a Grand Gnome Edict about the truffles?”
“Oh, I dared.” Drimblerod pointed at his partner. “The edict has been presented to a quorum of the party.” He squinted. “And so it stands valid.”
“Oooh!” Grimbledung stomped his feet. “Fine then.” He looked at RatShambler. “Rat, I don’t know if you know how much I appreciate you.”
“Don’t even try buttering me up. I worked hard for those truffles and I’m not going to let you scarf them all down while we’re not looking.” RatShambler sat on his haunches. “Now if you’ll change me back into a rat, I will enjoy my meal that way.”
“Oooh!” Grimbledung drew his wand and flourished it. “Fine then. Fine.” He put out his lower lip. “Can I just have one now to tide me over?”
Drimblerod looked from the substantial pile to his partner and back again. “Yes, here is a nice large one you can nibble on until your belly is content.” He picked up one of the larger truffles and tossed it to his partner. “T
here’s no sense in being unreasonable about it.”
Grimbledung bobbled the truffle as he tried to catch it and not drop his wand. He ended up dropping both. “Fine then. Rat becomes a rat and the truffle is mine.” He picked up the truffle and his wand. “Don’t move, Rat.” He waved the truffle at RatShambler
Shambli Verdes
Transmutis completes
Rodentus Grigo!
Rat blinked at Grimbledung. “Stop messing around.”
Grimbledung shook the truffle. “This thing must be jammed or something.”
Drimblerod shook his head and returned to sorting the truffles by size.
“Let me try again.” Grimbledung cleared his throat. He still held the truffle out. “As I was saying.”
“Grimbledung, either swap hands or change me back right handed.”
Grimbledung shook his head. “No way, you get bad magic when you try to do things right handed. Bad magic.” He swapped the wand and the truffle. “Now stand still.”
Shambli Verdes
Transmutis completes
Rodentus Grigo!
He slashed the wand at RatShambler.
As usual, RatShambler flared gold, then shrunk almost immediately to rat size.
“Finally. Back to my old self.” Rat sat back on his haunches. He sniffed the air. “Oh yeah, those smell good.” He twitched his whiskers. “Hey Grim, can I have a nibble of yours?”
“No deal. This is my one and only truffle thanks to Drimblerod Edict Declaring Axebreath over there.”
“That’s Mister Drimblerod Edict Declaring Axebreath to you,” corrected Drimblerod.
“Well, I’ll just wait until dinner time, I think. How many fish are in that box, Drimblerod?”
“There’s…” Drimblerod made a quick count. “Holy Roltons; there’s fifteen of them in here.” He smiled at his partner. “Nice work, partner!”
Grimbledung rubbed his truffle on his shirt as if it were an apple. “Master fishergnome is what I am.”
“I think we should cook up three of them and smoke the other twelve. What with the crackers and dried meat, we’ve suddenly upped our food stores to almost a week.” Drimblerod sighed. “Things are looking up.” He moved to the pile of wood he had made. “Grim start a fire while I get some spices for the fish. I’ll get dinner going in no time.”
Grimbledung aimed his wand at the pile of wood and shot a stream of lava at it. Within seconds it was blazing orange with every piece of wood alight. “And that’s how you start a fire.” He looked at his partner. “Hey, I think Rat should get a truffle as well for his work.”
“I agree,’ said Drimblerod. He picked up one of the smaller truffles. “Here’s a good, rat-sized one.”
Rat shook his head. “I will save that for later.” He twitched his whiskers. “For when I’m peckish.”
“You’re not peckish now? Really?”
Rat shook his head at Grimbledung. “No; I am ravenous now. That little truffle would only arouse my appetite without bedding it back down. I’ll wait for my fish.”
“Fine then.” Drimblerod looked at the blazing fire. “You do fires pretty good too.” He smiled. “Well, the fire’s good and hot so I’ll get the fish going. Grim if you’ll shave some of a truffle, we will get these fish into our belly post haste.”
Grimbledung hopped to his feet. “You got it; I’m ravenous too!” He drew his dirk as he moved to the truffles. He chose a small one and began to grate it with the blade of his knife onto the box lid. “Oh, this will be a good meal indeed!”
And it was.
After a hearty meal, the trio watched the fire burn low. As the darkness enveloped them, they all fell fast asleep.
Chapter 18
A Human, a Trolless, and an Elf are in a Bar
“That’s a great joke!” Nulu heard as she burst into the eating area of her business. A loud laugh drew her attention to a corner table. L’owen had his hand around Big Julie’s shoulder and he was doubled over laughing, head almost on the table. Julie’s head was tossed back. She was in the middle of a laugh as well.
Nulu steeled herself and moved to the table. “A fine time is being had by all, I see.”
L’owen wiped a tear from his eye as he finished laughing. “Oh, Nulu. The stories Julie has about you!”
“They’re probably all exaggerated,” tried Nulu. “Julie spins a fine yarn, adding to it as she goes until it’s a rope.”
Julie feigned offense. “Not at all!” She pointed a finger at her friend. “What about that incident with that traveling salesman? Remember that episode? You almost burned down the entire tavern!”
L’owen started laughing again.
Nulu pursed her lips and gestured toward L’owen’s arm over Julie’s shoulder, trying to change the subject from the dashing traveling Troll Oil salesman who gave very up-close and even more personal demonstrations of the apparently highly flammable oil. “Say, where’s Pinky?”
L’owen pointed at the side door. “Outhouse. Had to take a break,” he managed between laughs.
“Mister Haney and his wagon load of things.” Julie picked up her drink. “That was one fast-talking Troll who seemed to have just what folks needed on that wagon of his.” She eyed Nulu. “Am I right?”
Nulu sat at the table. “Say what you will about Mister Haney but he definitely had what a gal needed.”
L’owen perked up. “On his wagon of needful things?”
Nulu poured herself a drink. “Yeah, let’s stick with that.”
Pinky walked to the table. “What’d I miss? Nulu! We were just talking about you.”
“I figured as much; my tusks were burning.” She raised an eyebrow at the Elf. “So you’re heading north then? To kill off some gods if I remember correctly?”
“Killing what?”
L’owen took his hand from around Julie and patted Pinky’s arm. “Just a couple of rabble rousers who have set themselves up as kings in the Northern Lands. One of them got shot with an arrow in the chest and it stuck in his snuff box. Since it didn’t kill him but was sticking out of his chest, some of the locals called him a god. And now because of that, he and his pal have made themselves the de facto kings in the area and they’re pushing around the locals.”
Pinky nodded. “I see, and you’re going to expose them?”
L’owen nodded. “It should be an easy gig once I get there.”
Nulu smiled. “I used to love doing those easy gigs with you.” She took a drink. “Seems to me we would end up running for our lives at the end of most all of them.”
Now Julie laughed.
“Hey, we’re both still here, right?” L’owen smiled at his friend. “Speaking of here, did Mister Haney stick around town? Open up a respectable shop?”
Nulu shook her head. “No, no; he moved on. I don’t think Pozzuoli would take too kindly to someone else opening a similar shop here in town.”
L’owen shrugged. “Well, the town’s pretty big. I can’t imagine it will be long before you get more than one of most everything you have here.” He toasted Nulu. “In fact, I saw a couple other places on my walkabout that do what you do.”
Nulu nodded. “Well, they don’t do it with the same class as my joint. Although I hear that one of the taverns is looking to add rooms in as well.”
“Competition is the spice of life.” L’owen took a drink.
“Oh! Spices! I almost forgot.” Julie pulled the proclamation from her pocket. “It seems that Grimbledung has managed to annoy the entirety of the Elf Nations.”
“What?” L’owen put down his drink. “I haven’t heard anything about it. What’s going on?”
Julie put the proclamation on the table. “Well, that’s an exaggeration, really. He’s just managed to annoy the Elves that live in the Foreboding Forest.”
“Yeah, he hasn’t visited any other Elf communes.” Nulu laughed.
“The Forest Elf encampment- Der Kibbutzim, in Elvish if I remember correctly.” L’owen picked up the proclamation. “
What did he do to annoy them? That’s a pretty easy-going group from what I hear.”
“They eat people!”
L’owen nodded at Pinky. “That is true, but they’re easy going about it.” He read the proclamation quickly. “Oh dear.”
“That’s an understatement.” Julie gestured at the parchment. “A declaration of war and impending annihilation and all we get is an ‘oh dear’.”
“He has their Sack o’ Royal Spices?” L’owen put the parchment down. “That’s one of those ‘closely guarded artifacts’ of their community. How did he manage that?”
“Apparently when they were going to eat him, he convinced the cook to oil him up so he’d be tender,” said Nulu. “Then when the cook left for a moment, Grimbledung slipped out of the ropes, grabbed the spices and made a run for it.”
L’owen laughed. “I’d have loved to have seen that!”
Nulu stuck out her tongue. “Took two chapters to get his clothes back on.”
Now Pinky laughed. “That’s hilarious.”[15]
“What’s so special about these spices? Can’t they just replace them?” Julie took the parchment back and rolled it up.
“They can, and probably have already started the process.” L’owen got serious. “But it’s a long and arduous process to make the royal spices, and even more importantly, the spices are a thousand years old. They have to start from scratch.”
“What? That Gnome stole thousand-year old spices?” Julie shook her head. “I can see why they want him dead.”
L’owen shook his head. “Well, sort of.” He paused for a moment. “It’s like those inns that serve hundred-year soup where they just add more stock and water to the large pot so it never empties. In theory there is always something from the old soup in the pot so it is a hundred years old, but really, it is more the tradition of the soup that makes it famous.”
“So that’s how the spices are.”
L’owen nodded at Pinky. “Only ten times as old. And owned by one of the most rabid races around when it comes to tradition.”
“The old ways of the Elves.” Nulu shook her head. “Wars have been started because of them.”
Grimbledung and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Mine (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 5) Page 11