“That’s not the same as unlearned,” said Drimblerod. “But they may in fact be…”
“They decided to cross anyway,” Grimbledung pressed on.
“To do what?” Drimblerod asked.
“Probably eat,” Rat said. “That’s what I’d do.”
“What were they going to eat?” Drimblerod waggled his ears.
“THE THREE BROTHERS CAME TO A TRECHEROUS RIVER. WHEN THEY TRIED TO CROSS, THEY FELL IN AND DIED!” Grimbledung screeched.
“I was going to ask if it had a moral,” said RatOx.
“Grimbledung has no morals,” offered Drimblerod.
“If you think I’m going to tell another story with you two acting this way,” said Grimbledung, “you’ve got another thing coming.” He crossed his arms and pouted.
“Well, now that that is out of the way, how about lunch?” Drimblerod patted his partner on the shoulder. “Want something to eat? I know how story-telling builds an appetite.”
Grimbledung snorted. “I’m not sure I’m hungry.”
RatOx planted his feet, bringing the wagon to an abrupt halt. “What did I just hear?”
“Grimbledung said he wasn’t hungry.”
“That’s not what I said and you know it.” Grimbledung didn’t uncross his arms. “I said I wasn’t sure if I was hungry or not.” He snorted again for good measure.
“Well, that’s still something.” RatOx grinned wide. “If you want, Grimbledung, you can finish your story over lunch.”
Grimbledung uncrossed his arms. “Well…”
“And we promise not to interrupt this time,” assured Drimblerod.
“I suppose that would be nice.”
Drimblerod looked around. There was really not much to see besides rolling hills. “Any place is as good as any other when you’re on the Rolling Foothills.”
Grimbledung hopped off the wagon. “Unless you’re dealing with a band of angry Trolls, then being in any other place besides where you currently are is better than staying where you currently are instead of any other place you could be because angry trolls aren’t very sociable.”
Drimblerod considered that for a moment. “I think that’s the most confusing thing I’ve heard all day.”
“That’s because Grimbledung’s been asleep most of the day,” admitted RatOx.
“I can hear you two, you know.”
Drimblerod nodded. “Well, we’ll just try and be cordial if we run into any Trolls.”
“Change me back, Grim, so I can get a non-grazing meal in me.” RatOx shook his head. “And maybe I can just be a Shambler when we’re moving again.”
Grimbledung shielded his eyes with his hand as he scanned the area. “Doesn’t seem to be anyone around. I suppose that’d work.” He brandished his wand. “Ready?”
“Always.”
Ovibos moschatus
Transmutis Completes
Rodentus Grigo!
Grimbledung intoned as he hacked his wand at RatOx. “Better?”
RatOx flashed to his normal size, slipping out of the harness as he shrunk. “Just about perfect,” he said when he hit the ground. He twitched his tattered whiskers. “That reminds me, Grim. You know when I was a tiny Shambler and was kidnapped and sent to that mine?”
“Sure. Those were fairly recent events.”
“Well, remember when I was still a rat in the top of Big Julie’s windmill…”
“I was unconscious for most of that part, but I think I can follow along.”
“Good. Well, when I was…”
“GRIMBLEDUNG!”
Rat ducked.
Grimbledung ducked.
Drimblerod fumed. “What have you done?”
“I changed Rat back,” said Grimbledung as he slid his wand up his sleeve into his wrist harness. “Of course.” He turned to look at his partner. He was standing in the back of the wagon. Fuming. “Why?”
“Where is the food?”
“We ate it that first morning. Right after Nulu gave it to us.”
Drimblerod moved to the backrest. He put his hands on it and leaned forward. “Not the food Nulu gave us for breakfast…”
“Well, you’re going to have to be more specific than that, I think.”
Drimblerod took several deep breaths. “The food that we resupplied with at South Jute because you loused up that one single thing when you went to see Pozzuoli!”
“Ohhh; that food.”
“Yes; ohhhh, that food.”
Drimblerod stared at Grimbledung.
Grimbledung stared at Drimblerod.
Rat didn’t want to make eye contact with either of the Gnomes, so he scampered out of their line of sight.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Grimbledung moved to the side of the wagon. “I was sleeping while I was back here so I know I didn’t mess with it.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you do with it?”
“What? Me?” Drimblerod shook his fist. “You think I did something with it?”
“Well, that’s the only thing I can think of.” Grimbledung wheeled around and pointed at Rat. “Unless Rat is the culprit.” He nodded. “Oh yes, I’ll get to the bottom of this mystery!”
Chapter 21
The Case of the Missing Case of Food
So there I was, out in the middle of nowhere when a case dropped on me like a Tolkien of Orcs. There was food missing and it needed to be found. Finding things is what I’m good at. That and solving mysteries.
Grim Noir is the name. Being professional is my game. That and dames. I’m game for dames too.
Chapter 22
No Noir is Good Noir. No Noir I know.
“Grimbledung, you will not be solving any mysteries.” Drimblerod shook his finger at his me. “You’re the one responsible for this and you’re not going to shift the blame on anyone else!” So you can just drop that point of view right now!”
Now he was shouting.
At me.
Angrily even. Normally I’m the level-headed kind of Gnome that can deal with that sort of thing without getting my hackles up. And believe me- I have some hackles that are raring to go at a moment’s...
“And stop that inner monologue!”
Chapter 23
Flora- Shading Toward Gray
Flora rushed into the Duck Inn and Dine. “Sorry I’m late,” she said as she quickly tied her apron.
“What’s the excuse this time?” Wil asked. He had heard several outlandish reasons for Flora’s recent inability to arrive on time. “I’ll bet it’s a good one.” He smirked as he wiped out a glass.
Flora picked up her tray. “Well you see, I had this order I had put in and I’ve been waiting for the delivery.”
“Uh huh.”
She wiped her tray with her apron. “And it’s one of those orders that Gray’s Wholesalers say you have to sign for so you have to be there or they take it back because they won’t just leave it out front because it’s too expensive and too big to just leave out where someone could take it because that might happen since it’s a big order and expensive so you have to be there to sign for it when it arrives so you can move it inside your place so Gray’s is no longer responsible for it because you accepted it.”
Wil smiled. “Nice, very nice. Except you left off one minor detail.”
Flora looked up at the man. “What’s that?”
“What’s the order?”
Flora shrugged. “Some wheels and an axle is all.”
“Wheels? Like wagon wheels?”
Flora nodded. “Yeah, two of them.”
“Well, that is a large and expensive order. Very strange though.”
“What’s so very strange about it?” Flora tucked her tray under her arm. She looked away from him.
“Well, it’s simply strange because you don’t own a wagon as far as I know.” He slid the glass across to a group of cleaned glasses and put a new one into the crook of his arm. “And ordering an axel for the un-owned wagon is the ‘very’ part of the very strange.�
�
“Well, it’s not against the law to order wheels, the last time I checked,” she said testily. She continued to not make eye contact with him.
“No one said it was illegal.” He started to wipe out the glass. “Just strange. Very strange in fact.” He waved the cloth around. “Like ordering an extra-long wood bed when you’re the size of a Gnome which was the excuse the last time you were late. Or that spool of heavy rope even though you don’t own a boat the time before that.” He put down the glass. “Or those shackles earlier last week.” A thought occurred to him. A disturbing one.
“Well, it’s for little projects here and there is all. Crafting and such.” She turned to face the dining area. “It’s not unusual and really none of your business.”
“Well, it is my business when my employee comes in late all the time because of these strange purchases she has to have delivered to her quiet cottage at the edge of town.” He paused as he considered his disturbing thought. “If someone didn’t know better, they’d think you were building a rack in your basement.”
She pivoted to stare at him for a long moment. “That’s just absurd. Nothing could be farther from the truth, in fact.”
“That is a relief.”
Flora turned and walked toward the dining area. “I don’t have a basement.”
Chapter 24
The Case of the Food
Apparently Wasn’t a Case After All
“Rolton Chips,” I said. “Back to third.”
Chapter 25
Back to Taking Stock of the Stock
“Alright Grimbledung, where is our food?” Drimblerod asked.
Grimbledung moved to the back of the wagon and peered in. He let out a relieved whistle. “Well, there it is.” He pointed at a largish box. “You had me worried, Drim.” He hung his arms over the top of the sideboard. “That’s sure a relief!”
Drimblerod let the hinged lid of the box clatter open. “This is not a relief, Grim.” He pointed into the box. “This is maybe a week’s worth of rations if we’re careful.”
“That’s impossible!”
Drimblerod crossed his arms. “Why’s that?”
“Because I specifically said we needed two weeks of…” His voice trailed off. “Uhm…”
“Two? Two weeks? You were supposed to get food for a month. I figured this was a box of holding or something and it was packed with food.” He looked into the box. “This is a regular wood box.”
“Well, I’ll have to bring that up to that mercantile when we see him again.” Grimbledung shook his head. “Bad form that.”
“Bad form? You were supposed to get a month’s worth of food from that mercantile to replace the months’ worth of food you didn’t get from Pozzuoli!” Drimblerod worked the hasp on one of the other two boxes in the wagon. “That means these are regular boxes as well then.” He nodded as he flipped the lid open. “Bed rolls, canvas, some rope.”
“Ohhh! See? There’s the rope I asked for!” Grimbledung smiled. “Handy stuff, rope.” He stuck out his tongue. “So there.”
Drimblerod moved to the last box and opened it. “Another couple of bedrolls, some hard tack and some smoked beef. And a lantern and a couple of slickers.” He flipped the lid shut again and sat on the box. “We’ve maybe, maybe two weeks of food if we’re careful.” He gestured at the two casks. “There’s more alcohol that anything else.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
Drimblerod shook his head. “One thing. I asked you to do one thing to fix the one thing you didn’t do when I asked you to do one thing.” He stood and kicked a box lid shut. “Twice now I’ve asked you to do one thing.”
“Does that equal three?”
Drimblerod stared at his partner.
“At least we can pick up supplies when we go to Old Jute,” offered Rat. “Right?”
“Why, Grim? Why is there so little?” Drimblerod asked.
Grimbledung looked into the back of the wagon. “Well, I couldn’t rightly tell that mercantile exactly where we were going, now could I?”
“Yes, you could, Grim; then he’d have given us the proper amount of supplies. That mercantile doesn’t care where we’re going. You don’t even have to mention that part; just say ‘a month’s worth of food for the open road, please and thank you’ and that’s it!”
Grimbledung shook his head. “Well, that wouldn’t have been a friendly conversation at all. And then the truth would have gotten out and that sneaky Human would have run off ahead of us and gotten the treasure all for himself!”
“I don’t know how you talked me into this.” Drimblerod looked back the way they had come. “We should just go home and try again later when we’re more prepared.”
Grimbledung flailed his arms. “No, no! We’re well on our way! We have to keep going.” He pointed in the direction of Old Jute. “Old Jute isn’t that far away. We can pick up supplies there and talk to that innkeeper that is supposed to know the way!” He brought his hands together plaintively. “I was trying to keep our trip secret is all!”
“You know,” said Rat. “Pozzuoli and that mercantile Human might have known about the mine and could have given us more directions besides that it is in some rocky terrain overlooking a lake.”
“That didn’t occur to me.” Grimbledung frowned. “You think he might know where it is?”[17]
Rat twitched his whiskers. “Besides, Pozzuoli is a friend and I can’t see him doing something conniving like that.”
“He did kill me once,” reminded Grimbledung.
“Well, there were extenuating circumstances,” countered Rat.
Grimbledung nodded at Rat. “That’s true, I suppose. He’s been nothing but helpful since then.”
“Well, you can ask him about the mine when we get back.”
“But Drim, that’s later!” Grimbledung hopped back and forth. “Let’s go to Old Jute for more supplies!”
Drimblerod looked in the direction of Old Jute, then back towards the toll bridge, then back to Old Jute. “Fine. We can go to Old Jute.” He raised a finger. “But if we can’t get properly outfitted there, then we turn around. I’m not going to risk heading into the unknown wilds with what we have right now.”
“Deal.” Grimbledung nodded furiously. “Deal, deal, deal!” Then he raised a finger. “But we keep quiet about the mine in Old Jute since we don’t know anyone there and those people might just try and jump our claim.”
Drimblerod nodded. “I suppose that sounds reasonable.”
“Well, let’s get something to eat then head to good old Old Jute to see about visiting an outfitter and that innkeeper.” Drimblerod pulled a small sack out of the first box. “And I suppose we can listen to the rest of that story.”
Grimbledung shook his head. “That’s it; Death gets all three brothers at the treacherous river. In turn they fall in and hit their heads on the rocks just below the surface and drown. End of story.” Grimbledung smiled. “It’s called the Deathly Shallows.”
“That is kind of a happy ending, I suppose,” said Rat.
Grimbledung nodded. “The fellow at the docks always smiles when he tells me that story.”
“He tells you the same story every time? Doesn’t that get boring?”
Grimbledung nodded at his partner. “Sometimes. But one just doesn’t interrupt Death when he’s telling a story. He really, really doesn’t like it.” He thought for a moment. “Oh, and he cheats at checkers but you’re supposed to act like you don’t notice.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I ever run into him.”
“I think I’ll just avoid him,” said Rat.
“Well, sooner or later, everyone’s going to sit on the dock of the bay of Death. You’ll be sitting in the morning sun. Then you’ll be sitting playing checkers when the evening comes. Watching the ships roll in. Then you’ll watch them roll away again.”
“Ships-sss?”
“Lots of folks moving around in the Hereafter. Can’t carry them all in one ominous black go
ndola.”
Rat shuddered. “Why don’t we talk about something more cheerful?”
“I’m getting really good at checkers,” offered Grimbledung. “Really good. Almost won last time, in fact.” He frowned. “Not sure what that’ll get me though; he said we were playing for some fish.”
“Fish?”
“Yeah, Cod, Trout... I think it might have been Sole. Something like that anyway.”
“Oh dear. Grim, don’t play that guy for... fish.”
“No?”
“No.”
Grimbledung nodded. “Fine then. But I almost won some really nice steak knives off him last time.”
“Don’t do it.” Warned Drimblerod. “Well, how about the mine? What do we know about this lost mine?” Drimblerod tried as he steered the conversation away from Death.
“There’s a treasure of wands and gold in it.”
Drimblerod pulled a sack from the box. “Anything more specific you got from the Gargoyles or that Orc?” He opened the sack and rummaged in it.
Grimbledung thought for a moment as his partner pulled out several pieces of wrapped jerky and some hard tack. “Let’s see… Pollux said that the mine had a secret passage that was full of wands.”
“Did he mention where it was?” Rat sniffed some of the hard tack. “That would be helpful.”
“He said it was hidden somewhere in the mine.” Grimbledung picked up a piece of jerky. “So that narrows it down, I think.” He bit off a piece and chewed.
“Narrowed down to somewhere in the mine isn’t all that narrowed down, Grim.” Drimblerod tore a piece of meat off and put it in front of Rat. “Near the entrance? Near the back?”
Grimbledung swallowed. “I remember Castor said something about a ledge.”
“There aren’t many of those in a mine,” Rat picked up his piece of jerky.
“Really?”
“No! The place will be full of ledges and outcroppings and rocks!” Rat shook his jerky at the Gnome. “That’s really no help at all.”
“How big of a mine is it?” Drimblerod put a piece of jerky on some hard tack and bit down on both.
Grimbledung and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Mine (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 5) Page 13