The pair started walking towards the bar. “No, Grim, I definitely do not want to do that. Remember we have to go pick up all the supplies we’ve bargained and paid for and that’s deeper into town.” He pointed ahead of them. “It’s hard to make a getaway that way.” He pointed behind them. “When you’re going that way. We’ll end up on the gallows for sure. Or at least in debtor’s prison until we paid your debts.”
Grimbledung sidled up to the bar. “Well, we can easily pay off all our debts when we are rich.”
“One drink, Grim. That’s it.”
Grimbledung waggled his ears. “Excuse me, rodent. Can you speak? Besides RatSpeak, that is.” He raised his voice as he leaned in towards Rat. He spoke slowly: “We are looking for a companion of ours that is also a rat.”
Rat twitched his whiskers at Grimbledung. “So that’s how you’re going to start the evening?”
Grimbledung put his hands on the counter. “The evening has already started? Gads! I’m missing it!”
“Drimblerod?” Rat looked at his friend. “What did you find out as far as rations go?”
“We’re going to be stocked for the remainder of our trip.” Drimblerod raised his hand and waved at the bartender. “But it’s cost us nearly a gold coin, so we’re real low on money right now. Real low.”
“Enough for a few drinks though,” assured Grimbledung. “A few each.”
Drimblerod did a double take. “You get one drink, Grim. Remember none of this would be happening if it weren’t for you.”
“Well, thanks for that.” Grimbledung smiled. “I really appreciate I will get all the credit for making us filthy rich.”
“Uhm, Drimblerod…” Started Rat.
“We’re not filthy rich. Right now we’re stinking poor,” said Drimblerod. “Stinking not filthy.”
“Filthy!” Said Grimbledung.
“Stinking!” Retorted Drimblerod.
“Filthy!”
“Stinking!”
“Filthy!”
“Stinking!”
“FILTHY!”
Drimblerod paused for a moment. “Filthy!” He shouted.
“Stinking!” Said Grimbledung.
Drimblerod waggled his ears. “What are we?”
“Stinking poor is what we…” Grimbledung frowned. “Hey wait.”
“If you two are just going to shout dirty words at each other, you should just get a room,” offered the bartender.
Both Gnomes stared at the bartender.
“Uhm, Drimblerod.” Rat pointed at the bartender. “This gentleman is the proprietor of this establishment. He has given us a room that’ll cost us four copper and I assured him that we would be drinking for the evening.”
Drimblerod opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Grimbledung opened his mouth. Something came out: “Say now; that sounds like a plan to me. Set them up tarbender and I’ll put them down!”
“First one’s on the house,” said the bartender. “As agreed. The next four aren’t. And don’t call me that; it’s annoying.”
“Well, that works, we’ll have two each and Rat’ll have sips from ours. Perfect. So we’ll just...”
“Each,” Rat interrupted Drimblerod.
Drimblerod looked at Rat. “What?”
“Each is what we agreed on, Drimblerod.” Rat pointed at the bartender. “And four copper for a room. It all seemed pretty reasonable to me.”
“I just spent nearly a gold coin on supplies!”
“What?” Rat raised his claws plaintively. “What’d you buy; a whole meat locker?”
“Hey, you try feeding him!” Drimblerod pointed at Grimbledung.
“Are you folks going to argue about your kid all night, or order drinks?”
“I’m right here, you know.”
“I lived with him for a hundred years so I know full well his eating habits!” Rat shook a claw at Drimblerod. “And his digestive antics as well, unfortunately!”
“Hearing every word.”
“Ordering drinks. That’s what I want to hear from you. Not arguments.” The bartender put his hands on the counter. “Or you’re all out on your ears.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about!”
The trio looked at Grimbledung. “You!” they all said in unison.
“A drink’ll be nice, if it’s not too much trouble,” he added meekly.
Drimblerod didn’t make eye contact with the bartender. He figured it would make it easier to run out on the tab if he didn’t actually look the man in the eye. “We’ll start with those complimentary drinks. Three ales, please.”
“And keep them coming!” Grimbledung slapped his hand on the bar. “I’m parched!”
The bartender nodded approvingly. “Comin’ right up.”
As soon as his back was turned, Drimblerod grabbed his partner by the collar. “What are you doing? We are out of money, you daft Gnome! We can’t afford nine drinks!”
“Nine? It’s three drinks, Drim. Three. That’s way less than nine, I’m sure of it. Half probably.”
“Each!”
“Fine, have it your way. Three each.” Grimbledung smiled wide. “What’s the problem?”
“We. Do. Not. Have. Enough. Coins…”
“What?” Asked the bartender as he stepped in front of the pair. “What don’t you have enough coins for?”
“For us to order steaks,” Rat said quickly.
“For us to order steaks,” said Drimblerod almost too quickly. “We’ll just snack on nuts.” He realized he still had his partner by the collar so he let go quickly. “Just some nuts is all.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” the bartender said as he put the drinks on the bar.
Drimblerod smoothed Grimbledung’s collar. “Sorry about that. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks.”
“That’s fine, Drim.”
“I was talking to the bartender.” Drimblerod picked up his drink, toasted the bartender then took a sip. “Thanks.”
With a nod, the bartender returned to filling orders.
“What’re we going to do?” Rat asked in a whisper. “We’re going to need a silver coin just to get out of this place.” He hazarded a glance at the bartender. “And I’m sure he’s keeping an eye on us now.”
Grimbledung did a little hop.
“Here we go.”
Grimbledung nodded at his partner. “Oooh! I have an idea!” He pointed at his head. “Right up in here!”
“Well, that’s better than the ideas he has when he points at his belly,” Rat admitted.
Grimbledung pointed at his belly. “Oh my stomach had a part in it; nuts are not going to be satisfying. Not by a long shot.”
“Well, I’m always a little afraid to ask this question, but I’ll give it a shot anyway. You’ve surprised me before.” Drimblerod lowered his head. “What’s your idea, Grim?”
Grimbledung grabbed Rat’s drink and downed it in one gulp.”
“Hey!”
Rat’s exclamation made Drimblerod look up just as Grimbledung snatched his mug. He downed it as well. “Hey!”
“Right? It’s one of my best ideas ever!”
“Now just a minute here…” Drimblerod began.
Grimbledung put his finger onto Drimblerod’s lips. “Shhh.” He said. Then he downed his own drink. “Shhh,” he said again. “Grimbledung’s got it under control.”
“You are never under control.” Drimblerod said. He picked up his mug and let the few drops left trickle into his mouth. “I ought to smash this thing…” He started.
Grimbledung scooted away from the bar, still carrying his empty mug. “Can’t talk now, Drim; I’m making us some money!” He called over his shoulder as he moved to the minstrels in the corner.
Chapter 35
A Quartet… Plus One
Grimbledung moved to the minstrels as his two friends watched. When he got there, he put the mug down then began to hop and wave his hands around. He pointed into the distance then dow
n at his feet, then at the ceiling.
“What is he doing?” Rat asked.
“From my experience, he is telling a whole slew of lies.”
Rat nodded. That was his experience as well.
For almost a full minute Grimbledung gestured and hopped- sometimes on one foot, sometimes on the other. Once he sat on a chair and flailed his legs around.
Throughout the entire display, the minstrels nodded at him while they played.
Finally, Grimbledung stopped gesticulating and stood before the minstrels. He raised his hands plaintively. In turn, the four minstrels nodded.
Grimbledung pulled the chair in front of the minstrels then stood on it. He drew his dirk and tapped it loudly on the mug. When a majority of the patrons in the bar were looking, Grimbledung smiled and took a small bow. “Good evening all. It’s good to be here. Real good.” He took another small bow. “You should be pleased to know that the owner of this establishment…” He paused as he leaned over towards one of the minstrels- the Psaltery[22] player. After a moment’s discussion, Grimbledung looked toward the patrons again. “… the Minotaur’s Tale… has hired me for a one time only engagement as part of my All the Known Lands Tour.” He took another small bow.
A drunk Dwarf in the corner clapped.
“Yes, yes, applause is always appreciated.” He raised his hands as if the entire establishment was applauding. “But save it for the end.” He put the mug on the seat of the chair. “So without further ado, I would like to introduce the famous bard and poet… straight from a successful tour of the Hinterlands, Barren Wastes, and the Royal Court of Picistan…” He took another short bow.
“Oh boy; here comes the biggest lie of the evening,” Rat said. “Prepare yourself.”
“Maurus Magnentius!” Grimbledung took another short bow.
Now several patrons clapped, since, after all, Marus was famous.[23]
“What?” Drimblerod looked at Rat. “Oh no; he’s going to get arrested.”
“Well,” said Rat, “let’s at least hear the poetry. At least until the authorities drag him off kicking and screaming. Again.”
Drimblerod shook his head. “Fine. Poetry first. Kicking screaming to jail second.”
Grimbledung clasped his hands in front of his belly. “I shall now recite,” he said as he suddenly swayed slightly. “With no regard for the ill effects of the drink whatsoever.”
“That I find hard to believe!” Rat said louder than he should have.
Grimbledung shot him a look.
It missed entirely.
Grimbledung looked to where it had landed- near a spittoon that didn’t seem to care one way or another. With a shrug, he cleared his throat and pressed on:
“No more delays… I recite!”
An unlucky young Orcess named Boon
Was born in an oriental monsoon.
Her looks were most horrid;
Square eyes and no forehead.
And a body that was shaped like a bassoon!
Grimbledung started to take a bow but fell off the chair instead. He quickly got to his feet and executed a bow from the hard-packed dirt floor.
“Well, that was about as bad a limerick as I have ever heard.” Rat said.
One of the Orcs at the bar began to clap. Slowly. “Beautiful,” he said. “Beau…tee…ful.”
The other Orcs in the establishment joined their comrade in applause.
The other races in the bar, not wanting to draw the ire of the apparently limerick-appreciating Orcs started clapping as well.
“Thank you, thank you!” Grimbledung picked up his mug and toasted the crowd. “I will pass around my mug during my next recitation and hope to match my meter to the clinking of coins!” He handed the mug to a human closest to the stage. “Starting with you.”
The human started to pass the mug to someone else when a large Orc leaned over him and dropped a copper into it. When the two met eyes, the Human quickly dug into his coin pouch, pulled out a coin and let it clatter into the mug. When the Orc gave him a satisfied nod, the Human passed the mug to the next table.
“Unbelievable.” Was all Drimblerod could manage.
Grimbledung clambered back onto the chair. He held out his hands. “Back to the poems!” When no one clapped he turned toward the minstrels. After a few moments of heated discussion and arm waving -by the minstrels as well this time- Grimbledung turned back around. “With musical accompaniment!”
Grimbledung waved his hands to his sides as if he were conducting an orchestra.
The minstrels began to play softly.
“Merry it is while drinks last,” said Grimbledung. He raised and lowered his arm to get the minstrels on the same beat. He continued to move his arms as he recited:
Me’ry t’is while drinks’l last
With alës song;
O see now head o’foëm’s tall
Cover’n alcohöl’s strong byte.
Ei, ei, what does this night long?
Drinks!
Add ice with fruit’n umbrellas to add to th’ mix’rs’ song
Shake ‘n serve, ‘n fast!
Those drink all the night long.
Now scattered applause were intermingled with the sounds of coins being dropped into the mug as it moved around the tables.
“Absurd.” Drimblerod said. After a brief pause he added, “But I have to admit it, he’s not half bad.”
After a full quarter hour of poems, and exchanging for an empty mug, twice even, Grimbledung stepped off the chair. “Thanks folks, thanks! It’s great being here…” He paused and turned back to the minstrels. After a quick exchange, he turned back around. “… at the Minotaur’s Tale. We’ll be gone tomorrow but make sure you tip your servers tonight!”
Grimbledung bowed again to applause then picked up two of the mugs full of coins- the third one he left on the chair for the minstrels.
Grimbledung waggled his ears as he approached his speechless friends. “Well?”
“It seems we are speechless.” Said Rat.
Drimblerod nodded. “That was absurdly absurd.”
“Well, it’s hard to argue with poetry.” Grimbledung put the two full mugs on the bar.
As they clinked down, the bartender almost skidded to a stop in front of them. “Yes?” He asked. “You gents want to pay your tab?”
“So now we’re gents,” Drimblerod observed.
Grimbledung slid one mug toward the bartender. “This should about do it.”
The bartender looked down at the mug. Even though it was only filled with copper coins, it was still full. “I do believe so.”
“Fine then, we need a fresh set of drinks, methinks.” Grimbledung said. He gave a wink, and for the minstrels as well if you please. Ooh; and some meat to go with it.” Grimbledung paused for a moment. “And for those fellows on the instruments as well. Seems they are starving artists.”
“Would you be able to exchange this into more easily carried currency?” Drimblerod gestured at the other mug. “That’s a lot of copper coins to lug around.”
The bartender nodded. “I’ll make it mostly silver and be back with it.” He smiled genuinely. “It is a pleasure to have a famous poet in the place, Mister Magnentius. A pleasure indeed. I had no idea, really.” A thought occurred to him. “Mayhap I’ll invite other poets and bards to recite once a week; the crowd really seems to like that sort of thing. Yes?”
“Oh, I believe you’d have no trouble finding local talent to come in here and liven up the place with some poetry and other rhymes. Why, your place will be lousy with culture.”
The bartender picked up the two mugs and toasted Grimbledung with them. “Be right back with your drinks and change, Mister Magnentius.”
“Unbelievable,” Rat said.
With another smile, the bartender left quickly.
“How was that for an idea?” Grimbledung asked.
“You know you can end up in jail for impersonating a poet like…” Rat stopped as an Orc bent over them.
“Great recitation. Great.” The Orc said. He held out a napkin. “Can I get your auto…”
Grimbledung took the napkin and blew his nose in it. “Ahhh, there we go.”
“Uhm, Grim…” Began Drimblerod.
“Thanks!” Said the Orc as he took the napkin back. “Thanks very much, Mister Magnentius!” He moved back to the other Orcs sitting at the end of the bar waving the napkin over his head.
“The absurdness level has got to peak at some point.”[24]
Drimblerod nodded at Rat. “Hopefully soon.” He looked at Grimbledung. “I think we need to keep a low profile, Grim. If this poet is as famous as he seems to be, word is going to get out that he was reciting here and since he wasn’t, the authorities are going to get involved.”
The bartender put three drinks in front of them as he went by. “Changing those coins next, Mister Magnentius,” he said without stopping.
“Pushaw!” Grimbledung said. “This is great! Maybe I’ll go on tour for real!” He turned and toasted the Orcs with his mug. “To you all!”
Two Orcs clapped while others toasted him back.
“Alright you! Stop encouraging him,” said Drimblerod.
“My adoring public,” Grimbledung said as his smile grew wide. He waggled his ears. “Adoring is what they are.”
“Poor judges of character is what they are,” said Rat. He waggled a claw at the Orcs. “That’s enough of that! We have to live with him you know; if you’re going to encourage him that way, we’ll just leave him here with you.”
The clapping stopped abruptly.
Grimbledung stopped waggling his ears. “Wait. What?”
“Get back to your libations,” Rat ordered.
The autograph-receiving Orc raised his eyebrows. “On you?”
Rat exhaled loudly. “Fine. I’ll put up a round for you and your fellow Orcs if that will...”
The Orcs started clapping.
“Stop it or you’ll be buying your own drinks.”
The clapping stopped.
As if by magic, the bartender appeared. “What was that?”
Rat nodded at the bartender. “Keep track. One drink each.”
“I have pal. Ran across the street for some tobacco,” said an Orc.
Grimbledung and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Mine (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 5) Page 19