“Dun be slow, laddie. Faerie’s been rather clear. The Sovereign has always been the healer of the land and I believe that to be you.”
“You’re saying I’m the King and Amber’s my defender?”
“Of course I am. Faerie dun picked you to be Sovereign and picked her to be The Bulwark. Just how that works with almost none of your people here, I dun know.”
Amber broke in, “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tig, we need to focus on the mission; how to get home. Don’t get swallowed up in the rest of it.”
“Sure, that’d be one way to think on it," Glavious acknowledged. "I see we’re still in the disbelieving stage. No harm in that. Good, healthy skepticism is what I go by. Now, Miss Amber.”
“Just Amber, okay?" Amber snapped. "No Miss this or that and definitely not The Bulwark.”
Tig just stared at her. Something was definitely getting under her skin. She was never this short with anyone.
“Right you are, lass. Let’s get right to this.”
Tig found a bench, pulled it against an open spot on the wall and sat down.
Glavious grabbed two heavy war hammers and handed one to Amber, keeping one for himself. He swung the hammer as if it were a fork or a spoon. Amber had more difficulty holding the hammer with one hand.
“I chose these hammers to demonstrate a point. Youngsters aren’t much for talking most of the time so I might as well just show yah. Lassie you’d best prepare to defend yerself. I plan to attack.”
“Wait,” Amber said, but it was too late. Glavious leapt forward with the grace of a grizzly bear - that is to say, all power and not a lot of finesse. His boots slapped the ground in front of Amber and he pushed the head of the hammer into her stomach.
Amber’s breath expelled, but the strike wasn’t enough to knock her over. It did, however, piss her off. She couldn’t believe the self-righteous little dwarf would strike her, unprotected like that. She instantly switched into her battle stance.
She wanted nothing more than to show Glavious that he was messing with the wrong person. She tried to pull the hammer around to give him a taste of his own medicine, but could barely move the thing. She put both hands around its shaft and pulled it around. It felt like her shoulders might pull out of their sockets, but she stayed with it.
Glavious slowly dove for Amber’s hammer. She aimed her strike at the dwarf, but soon realized that the hammer was so heavy that Glavious would clear its path before she could muscle it around. It was also so heavy that she couldn’t easily alter its trajectory now that she had it moving. Even with her increased speed, she knew her attack was failing.
Amber made a quick decision and let go of her hammer. On its current path, it would fall harmlessly to the side. Using Glavious’s hammer as a step, Amber launched forward onto his shoulders, pushed off and completed a forward summersault with a half twist, landing behind the dwarf’s back. Not bad for improvisation. She gave a hard tug to Glavious’s pony tail on the way down.
When her feet hit the ground. Glavious was just starting to turn around. She observed how he efficiently used the weight of the hammer as a pivot point. Where the hammer had been dead weight to Amber, it was very much an extension of the dwarf’s being. She waited for him to finish his spin. Even though he moved slower than the demons, he'd be a considerable foe. His body and hammer moved as one.
Glavious set the hammer on the floor and held his hands out, showing that he’d finished his first lesson. Amber figured out that he was done and relaxed, rejoining the normal flow of time. The hammer she’d released clattered noisily to the floor.
“Have yah any observations?” Glavious asked.
“You don’t fight nice?” Amber said. Her ribs felt like they’d been punched with an iron hammer, which of course they had.
“I had to be sure you’d switch and it was nary a hard strike. Why’d yah drop yer hammer?”
“It was too heavy. Even though you were moving slowly, it was impossible to redirect it in time.”
“Yer a quick one, lassie. That’s because you weren’t attuned to it. Now dun be getting me wrong, that hammer was made by a fine dwarven craftsman. One I’d be proud to carry if I hadn’t my own, that is. Any idea what type of weapon you prefer?”
Amber looked blankly at him, “I’d prefer not to be fighting.”
“A wise stance to be sure, but it dun answer the question at hand. We’ve got to get you trained up and we dun have time to cover everything.”
Amber stared at the long bench covered with different weapons. Her eyes rested on what looked like short baseball bats. The heavy end of the bats were inlaid with silver braid and the walnut handle was warm to her touch.
Next, her eye lit on a pair of long-bladed daggers. Picking them up, she discovered that, like the axe, they felt heavy in her hands.
Glavious joined her and unrolled a three foot long black cloth pouch. He unfolded the cloth to reveal a dozen, five-inch darts. Their wooden shafts were slim, like Amber’s fingers but ended in a four-bladed, razor sharp point, much like an arrowhead.
“See if you can put one of these into that target.” Glavious nodded at a wooden post that stood fifteen yards away.
“I doubt it,” Amber answered, but picked up a dart anyway. She felt the same warmth from the dart’s shaft as she had from the hand-axe. She tried an overhand throw, like she’d seen knife throwers use. The dart sailed over the post by a foot and embedded into the wall ten feet behind it.
“Maybe not,” Glavious observed. “Try this.” He tossed a small, silver, weighted ball, the size of a walnut at her.
Amber had played baseball growing up. The town hadn’t been large enough to have both girls’ softball and boys’ baseball, so the teams were combined. Originally, they’d put her in the outfield, sticking with age-old stereotypes. The thing was, Amber had a wicked throwing arm and ended up as the pitcher.
She tossed the small ball up in the air a few feet to get a feel for it. It was about as heavy as a baseball, but fit neatly into the palm of her hand. All at once she spun, focused on the top of the post and let it fly. The silver ball whistled through the air and struck the post, right where she’d aimed.
***
After watching Amber and Glavious spar, Tig felt restless. Amber was clearly enjoying herself and Glavious didn’t seem even remotely annoyed that she was easily getting the better of him. If anything, he was encouraging her. They didn’t seem to notice when Tig excused himself.
Tig found Sam in the Wizard’s Library with stacks of books on the table next to the desk. He was poring through one of them when Tig approached.
“Your parent’s marriage wasn’t always forbidden,” Sam said.
“What do you mean?”
“The segregation between High Elves and Wood Elves was a fairly recent thing, within the last thousand years or so. From the way I see it, if either of them has a claim to leadership it would be the Wood Elves, since they live so close to the earth. All this living in castles must have gone to their heads. Oh, and Kat’s looking for you.”
“Do you think that’s important? The castle thing, not Kat,” Tig asked.
“That’s what I’m looking for. Did you know that elves and humans can’t cross and have children?”
“How do you explain your dad and mom?”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll find Kat. Let’s talk more about this tonight, okay?” Tig asked.
“Okay. I should know more by then,” Sam said.
Tig used the rings at the center of the Library and teleported to the Residence level. He had no more than walked into the dining hall when Kat came up to him.
Kat curtseyed. “Greetings, Prince Tig. Healer Rex says that it is hard for him to break away right now. If you could go to him, he’d be able to talk.”
Tig pursed his lips. He was having trouble getting her to remember not to refer to him so formally. “Thank you. I'd like to see him in action.”
Tig bent down on one knee an
d held his cupped hand out. She clambered up onto his shoulder and gave him her standard hug around his neck. It melted his heart every time she did it.
“He’ll be in the kitchen.” Kat directed him from the Wizard’s Tower back into the main part of the castle. It took twenty minutes for them to wind through the gnome village. That it reminded Tig of Faire back home made him wistful.
“You’ve done well for yourselves. Your town is beautiful,” Tig said.
“I’m so glad you like it. I think the elders are worried that you’ll want us to take it all down,” Kat communicated what Tig had already surmised.
“It seems to me that we abandoned you. Lemonade from lemons and all that,” Tig said.
“Oh, you’re silly. We haven’t had lemons since last fall,” Kat said, obviously not understanding his reference. “The way I understand the story is that your people took the bad out of Gaeland and then were trapped on the other side.”
“I think that’s mostly true, but I really don’t know.”
They’d arrived in what had once been the castle's kitchen, but it no longer bore any resemblance to a kitchen. The cabinets and ovens had all been converted into housing. The same tram ran though it and instead of hot air balloon elevators there were hamster wheels connected to pulleys. Tig watched with amusement as a gnome hopped into the wheel and ran a friend up several levels.
“That’d never work where I come from,” Tig observed.
“What’s that?” Kat asked.
“You’d never get anyone to run the wheel for you.”
“Why not?” Kat asked.
“Not everyone is as nice as you all are.”
“Odd," she mused and then pointed toward an elder gnome sitting in a rocking chair on a second level balcony. "There he is.” When they approached, the healer put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. He was holding a small gnome baby and rocking with it, a happy look on his face. Tig felt a small wave of healing emanating from the old gnome.
Tig whispered, “Greetings, Mr. Rex.”
“Greetings, Prince Tigerious. I apologize, but I have a difficult time breaking away from my duties.”
“It is very understandable. Thank you for agreeing to talk with me,” Tig said in a hushed voice.
“I am, of course, honored to meet you. It’s just that I’m so worried for this little one. She’s having a rough time of it.”
“Will you be able to help her?” Tig asked.
“I do what I can. Faerie takes care of the rest.” His voice sounded suddenly tired. “So what can this lowly healer do to help a Prince of Parnassus? Are you hurt?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s just that my father is very sick, poisoned by a witch,” Tig said.
“Your father, you say? Would that be Prince Chey?” He asked. “Is he near? Perhaps I could help him.”
Tig was touched by the old gnome’s willing spirit. “No. He is back where we came from, not in Gaeland.”
“Oh. I don’t know much about witch magic. I wish I could be of more help.”
Tig found that if he sat in the street, his face was still level with the balcony where the old gnome sat. Two adolescent gnomes ran over and stared up at him, apparently no longer worried that he might step on them.
“Hi there,” he addressed them, speaking softly.
“Are you really a prince?” the smaller of the two asked.
“I’m Tig. Who are you?” Tig held his hand out on the ground.
The taller answered officially, “I’m Pettiford and that’s my brother, Cupcake.”
Tig smiled. “Very nice to meet you, Pettiford and Cupcake.”
“We’re waiting for Healer Rex,” Cupcake said brazenly.
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“My mum’s got a bad foot, but she doesn’t want him to come over before he’s had his time with Lil’ Mite.”
“Who’s Mite?” Tig asked.
“The baby, silly. Mite’s really sick and Mum says he might not make it, so she wants Rex to stay with him as long as possible,” Pettiford explained.
“Prince Tigerious, as you can see, a healer’s life is never boring. Kids, run and tell your mum I’m on my way. I’ve done what I can for Mite today,” Rex said, his demeanor buoyed by the kid’s energy.
“What kind of sickness does the baby have?” Tig asked.
“His breathing is weak and his air passages are narrow,” Rex replied.
“How are you helping him?”
“I help by restoring his little muscles. They grow so tired after a long night of struggling. We see this from time to time.”
A female gnome opened a colorful door next to where Rex was sitting. Tig imagined it was Mite’s mother. She smiled at Tig and held her arms out to Rex for her baby who’d started coughing.
“Clover, I’d like to introduce you to Prince Tigerious Parnassus,” Rex said.
“Very nice to meet you.” Her voice was tired, most likely from long nights with her sickly child.
“Would you allow me to hold your baby?” Tig asked.
Clover looked to Rex, clearly concerned about the unusual turn of events. Tig understood the social imposition he’d caused and wondered how she’d respond.
“He is so very fragile, my prince,” she said.
“I will be extremely gentle,” Tig answered in a quiet voice.
Rex interjected, “Perhaps we could find another child?”
Tig didn’t know if he could help, but he also understood that they were protecting the infant. He would have to take a risk. “I might be able to help. I will take utmost care.”
Rex raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.
“I don’t suppose it could hurt,” Clover said. Tig could see a great stress in her heavily lidded eyes. He held his right hand over the railing and she laid the tiny bundled baby in his palm. Mite was no larger than a D-cell battery.
Tig carefully cradled his right hand in his left and rested his arms on his legs so that he was certain he was perfectly stable. He closed his eyes and for a moment had a difficult time locating the tiny life in his hands. Concentrating, he found Mite’s brilliant little body. The infant gnome glowed brighter than anything he had seen, although he had never helped a gnome before.
Tig didn’t find it difficult to zoom his healing vision into the tiny chest and soon he was able to inspect the baby’s lungs. They had been damaged by a significant amount of inflammation, to the point of obstructing the small capillaries. Tig slowly pushed tiny amounts of healing energy into the beleaguered tissues and was gratified to see them respond. He worked for a period of time and when he’d done what he could, he opened his eyes.
Tig handed the bundled infant to Clover, who hastily accepted him. “He’s stopped breathing,” she squeaked in panic. “Help me.” Adrenaline shot through Tig’s body as he watched the frantic mother hand her baby to Rex.
Clover sobbed while Rex brought the baby’s face close to his own. After a few moments he lowered the baby and cradled him in such a way that Clover could get a good look at him. Ragged sobs gave way to shuddered breaths as she hurriedly fetched him back. A small crowd of gnomes had come outside of their homes to see what the racket was all about.
“There, there, Clover. His breathing has just been quieted.”
“He’s okay?” Tig asked, still concerned.
“Quite. He’s so exhausted, he has fallen asleep.”
Tig sat back, and allowed himself to breathe again. He couldn’t imagine what he’d have done if something had happened to Mite.
“I wasn’t aware you were a healer.” Rex looked over his round spectacles and down his long pointy nose.
“It’s a new idea for me as well. I didn’t know either until a few days ago,” Tig said.
“You’ve only been a healer for a few days and you healed an infant’s lungs? How is that possible?” Rex asked.
“I was hoping to talk to you about that. I've only met one other healer and I didn’t know enough at that time to ask qu
estions.”
“Prince Tigerious, we could not be more different. I’m a very simple healer, but I’ll certainly tell you what I can.”
“Mr. Tigerious?” Clover had regained her ability to talk.
Tig turned his attention to the young mother. Her cheeks were blotchy, tears silently tumbling. “Please, call me Tig.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” Tig wasn’t sure how to handle the conversation.
“I didn’t trust you and … if you hadn’t …” She appeared to be on the edge of a new meltdown.
“You couldn’t have known. Please don’t cry,” Tig pleaded.
“Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I’d like to check in on him later if that’s okay.”
Rex apparently had decided that it was time to bail him out. “Now Clover, that little boy needs to rest and so do you. I’ll be back later to check on you both. Prince Tigerious and I have important work to do.”
“Of course! Thank you, Prince Tigerious.”
Tig nodded and watched with satisfaction as she re-entered the house.
“How do you feel?” Rex asked.
“I’m exhausted,” Tig admitted.
“You have a weak connection to the earth here in the castle. I’m surprised you were able to accomplish so much, under the circumstances,” Rex replied.
Kat pulled herself back onto Tig’s shoulder, “Let’s get you back to the residence so you can get some rest.”
“What about Pettiford and Cupcake’s mother?” Tig asked.
“No. She’s right. You need rest,” Rex said.
“Let’s help her first, then I promise to go lie down,” Tig bargained. He was exhausted but also buoyed by his recent success.
“Very well, but first, let’s take you to the greenhouse. Perhaps Katinwal could get you something to eat. You’re young and will no doubt recover.”
Tig carried the old gnome into a glassed-in greenhouse. Like all things in the castle, the greenhouse had been converted into a functional, multi-level farm, complete with small fruit trees and vegetable gardens. Two ponds on opposite ends of the structure were connected by a stream.
Lesser Prince (Guardians of Gaeland Book 1) Page 29