Chapter Five
When you’re in charge, you better make sure you act like it. Otherwise, folks will forget, said Grampa Rolf. So you don’t say much. You don’t laugh. You tell ‘em what to do and you keep your eyes forward. Look towards the goal. That’s how you get folks to follow you.
Tarah heard his voice in her mind as she continued down the road towards the keep, but she didn’t respond to him. After all, Grampa Rolf was dead. His voice was just a memory. She was well aware of that. Her mind had a habit of bringing up Grampa Rolf’s advice when she was unsure of what to do. Unfortunately, unsurety had been a constant state for her lately.
Still, she heeded his advice, staying at the front of the group and looking ahead, not engaging the others in conversation. This should have been difficult since she had never been in this part of Razbeck before, but she could see the tracks Willum had made earlier that morning. His boots had left clear impressions in the light dusting of frost on the icy road.
While she walked, Tarah listened to the conversations the others were having. The academy group stayed clustered together, leading their horses while Swen the Feather told them what he knew about the keep. Benjo was staying back with them, hanging on their conversation with childlike excitement. Tarah didn’t understand why. Swen was boring as dirt. He was a good enough sort, she supposed, but his voice was a dull monotone, rarely varying in pitch or inflexion. Helmet Jan was a much more entertaining talker. She just didn’t know when to stop talking.
Tarah had heard most of what Swen was saying before, so she turned her attention to Djeri and this new man, Willum. He and Djeri were reminiscing about the old academy and talking about the changes now that the war was over. Their conversation wasn’t that much more interesting, but she had to force herself not to look back at them as they spoke.
Willum was a handsome man, well muscled, and with a sort of boyish charm to him. And that axe . . . She’d only looked at it for a moment, but something about the weapon seemed familiar. It made her want to draw back in distaste and yet, at the same time, she wanted to hold it. It was much the same feeling she’d had when Grampa Rolf had first given Tarah her staff.
Then there was Djeri. Tarah had spent much of the last day’s travel forcing herself not to stare at the dwarf. Before leaving the academy outpost, they had both agreed to keep their relationship discreet. Not that they were trying to hide it, exactly. Neither of them believed they could keep it completely quiet. After all, Swen knew about it. It just seemed better to be tactful about things. Tarah’s cheeks burned as she thought of the passionate kiss she and Djeri had been sharing before Swen had interrupted them.
Don’t let yourself get attached to men, said her papa. One day you’ll find the right one for you, but young ladies have a tendency to latch on to the first man that tells them they’re pretty. You wait till you find a man that’s every bit as good and strong as you are.
I have, papa, she thought. Djeri is just that sort of man. She wondered how he’d feel about her being in a relationship with a dwarf.
Tarah Woodblade don’t make goo-eyes at any man, Grampa Rolf replied. You start doing that, you lose your strength in the minds of all your clients. Tarah Woodblade is above all that.
“But-.” She reminded herself not to respond. Their voices were just memories. That’s all. She could remember the day Grampa Rolf had given her that particular lecture. She had just come back from meeting Alphonse, the man who had been the Mage School’s captain of the guard at the time. Rolf had been sick then. He’d looked so pale.
“Did you say something, Miss Woodblade?” Willum asked, interrupting her thoughts.
Tarah winced. She turned back to look at the man, one eyebrow raised. “If Tarah Woodblade has something to say to you, you’ll know it.”
Tarah saw irritation flash in his eyes momentarily, and felt guilty for her harsh tone. Willum forced a smile. “You might want to take a right at the split here. That’s the main road to the keep.”
If a client ever gets mad at you, the best thing to do is impress ‘em with your skill, Rolf said. Show ‘em what Tarah Woodblade can do.
“Of course. I’ve been following your tracks from earlier today,” Tarah replied. She crouched and lightly traced one of the tracks with her finger. A brief memory flashed through her mind. “You came this way straight from the keep.” She stood and glanced back at him. “Strange. You were acting as if you were carrying on a conversation, but your brother hadn’t joined you yet.”
Willum blinked in surprise and Tarah nodded. That was probably enough to wow him. She started walking again, taking a right at the junction. This new stretch of road headed up a long incline. Fenced-in stretches of frost-covered farmland sprawled on either side of the road. She couldn’t see the keep yet, just a line of trees at the top of the slope.
“Is she always like this?” Willum asked, his fists planted on his hips.
Djeri, grunted, “Sorry about that. Tarah’s, uh, a bit eccentric, but she’s the best tracker I’ve ever seen. Also she’s a great person once you get to know her.”
“Yeah,” said Willum and the two of them moved faster to keep up with her. Tarah could feel his eyes boring into her back. “I know several people like that.”
“Speaking of eccentric people,” Djeri said. “I spoke with Kathy the Plate before I left the Mage School. She asked about you.”
“She did?” Willum said and from his tone Tarah could tell his interest was piqued.
“Yeah, she wanted to know when you were coming back,” Djeri said.
“Ugh. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t even know that,” Willum said. “How is she doing?”
“The academy’s so busy with the rebuild up at the site, they’re sending the trainees to the Mage School. Kathy’s been put in charge of their armed combat training.”
Willum chuckled. “She could be pretty good at that if she didn’t end up scaring all the trainees away. Did she, uh, say anything else about me?”
“Just that she missed tousling your hair,” Djeri said with a chuckle. “I think she wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing any girls out here.”
Willum missed a step. “That’s . . . Kathy. She knew you were coming here?”
“No. That was over a month ago. I had no idea I’d be here at the time. But she knows that Lenui is my uncle and that you are bonded with his wife,” Djeri said.
“To be,” Willum said.
“What?” Djeri asked.
“Bettie is his wife to be,” Willum replied. “You did know that they were holding off on the wedding until they arrived back in Wobble, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah, I knew that. It’s just that with them being together so long, I . . .” Tarah heard Djeri’s hand slap his forehead. “Turds,” the dwarf said, groaning. “We’re going to miss the wedding! Bettie is not going to be happy about this.”
“Oooh,” Willum said with a verbal wince. “Is this mission going to take a while?”
“Most likely,” Djeri said, sighing. “That’s going to make it difficult to recruit people here, isn’t it?”
“It definitely makes things problematic,” Willum said.
Tarah stopped walking and whirled about to face them. “Are we wasting our time here? Because if no one’s gonna help, we should leave now. Every minute Esmine’s with those dwarves she’s in danger.”
“So who’s this person you’re rescuing?” Willum asked.
“She’s a rogue horse,” Djeri said.
“A rogue horse?” Willum said, a look of concern on his face. “That could change things. Hold on just a minute. I need to tell Tolivar.”
“Then let’s go,” Tarah said, but Willum didn’t move. He just stood there, pulling his bottom lip. “We gonna get moving or what?”
“Tolivar is his bonding wizard, remember?” Djeri said. “Give him a second. I’m sure they’re talking right now.”
“Oh. Right,” she said. Djeri had explained this ‘bonding wizard’ thing to he
r earlier, though she still didn’t quite understand it. Evidently a bonding wizard’s magic linked him to other creatures or people. These links somehow made the bonded stronger and allowed them to communicate with each other through their minds.
“What? Is she wanting us to stop now?” asked Helmet Jan as the academy soldiers caught up to them. They had been just far enough behind that they hadn’t heard the conversation.
“Did you have to pick this one, Swen?” Tarah said, rolling her eyes. “The way her helmet blocks her ears makes her mouth fall open too much.”
Swen’s eyes narrowed slightly, “I picked her because Helmet Jan is very good in a fight. You’ll see.”
“You bet I can fight,” Jan said. Tarah couldn’t see the rest of her face, but her lips were twisted with anger. “I could beat your face in, no problem, Woodblade! Don’t care how good you are with that red staff of yours.”
Tarah knew nothing about Jan’s skill, but she couldn’t let that comment pass. “Who needs a staff? With that helmet, you wouldn’t see me coming.”
“Let’s go then. If I smack your nose hard enough, I might just straighten it!” Jan snapped back.
“What are you, twelve?” Tarah asked.
“Enough!” Djeri shouted, glaring at the both of them. “Turds on toast, ladies! We’re on academy business. Don’t forget who you are. Stop your bickering and that’s an order!”
The command structure of the academy must have meant something to her because Jan backed down immediately. “Yes, sir,” she said, sounding chastened.
“That’s right. You better listen,” Tarah said.
Djeri turned on her. She hadn’t seen him look that angry with her in a long time. “I was including you when I said ‘ladies’, Tarah, believe it or not.”
Tarah’s jaw dropped. What was that supposed to mean?
Tarah Woodblade doesn’t put up with being talked down to, said Grampa Rolf, his voice sounding outraged.
“Just a minute, here,” Tarah said. “Tarah Woodblade don’t put-!”
“Listen to me,” the dwarf replied, pointing at her. “It’s true you’re funding this mission, but don’t forget that we also hired you as a tracker. So you are working for us just as much as we are working for you.”
Tarah’s mouth slowly closed. He had a point. The first thing she had done after hiring the academy was to suggest they hire Tarah Woodblade to be their tracker. It had been a tricky way to make a little bit of her money back, or so she had thought at the time. Now that trick was coming back to haunt her. Her lips tightened. But only if she let it.
“If I might interrupt,” Willum said. “I’m done talking to Tolivar. He’s discussing it with Bettie and Samson now. Everybody’s gathering in the lodge.”
“Alright, let’s keep moving, then,” Djeri said. Tarah spun to continue up the road and Djeri firmly added, “Not you.”
“Excuse me?” Tarah looked back at him and saw a firm set to his jaw.
“Let the others pass,” Djeri said, this time with a softer tone. “Tarah, I need to speak with you alone for a minute.”
She folded her arms and stared at him for a few seconds before finally stepping aside. Jan snorted at her as she rode by and Tarah scowled. Why was Djeri doing this to her? He was undermining her position in this group. He wasn’t supposed to do that. Not after what they had been through together.
As soon as the last horse passed them, Djeri grasped her arm and said in a hushed voice, “What are you doing? Why are you being so rude to everyone?”
Tarah blinked. Rude? “I’m the client this time.”
Djeri frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m acting like a client, Djeri,” Tarah explained as if it wasn’t obvious. “This is what clients do.”
“Acting like-?” Djeri shook his head. “Why? Did you like it when clients acted like that to you?”
Tarah shrugged. “It’s the way of things.”
“No it isn’t,” he said. “And if that’s been your experience, you’ve been taking the wrong kind of clients.”
Djeri’s mule snorted in agreement and she gave it a sideways glance. He probably understood their conversation. Neddy was smarter than other mules, a fact that had saved their lives a couple times. Tarah didn’t understand why, but it likely had something to do with being trained by wizards.
Grudgingly, Tarah patted the mule’s neck and repeated one of Rolf’s favorite phrases, “The only bad clients are the ones who don’t have coin.”
“No.” Djeri shook his head. “That may be the way the Sampo Guidesman Guild works, but the academy disagrees. Yes, we want to be paid for our work, but we don’t take a job unless the client is satisfactory.” He waved his hands. “Look, we’re getting off track here. The point I’m making is that you need to stop bossing everybody around.”
“But Grampa Rolf always said-.”
“Your Grampa Rolf was a swindler and a charlatan,” Djeri pointed out.
“Hey!” He wasn’t wrong about Rolf, but still, he was her grampa. This entire conversation was catching her off guard.
“Are you the same as he was?” Djeri pressed. “Is Tarah Woodblade a swindler?”
“No. Tarah Woodblade never cheats a client,” she said, trying to summon up some outrage, but coming up empty-handed. She looked down. “As for being a charlatan-.”
“Don’t start this again,” Djeri said and there was caring in his voice. He reached up and cupped her cheek with his hand.
Tarah felt a pleasant shiver go down her spine at the warmth of his touch. He lifted her chin until her eyes met his. Djeri’s eyes were a light green. So different from the eyes of any other dwarf she’d met. It was probably because his father was half-human.
He gave her an affectionate smile. “We already went over this. You are the real thing.”
“I want to kiss you again,” Tarah replied, the words coming out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“But, Tarah-.”
She grasped his wrist. “Now.”
She saw her hunger returned in his eyes, but he broke off her gaze to glance up the road towards the others. They were coming close to the top of the slope. “We’d better not. They’ll be able to see us. They probably think the way I’m touching you right now is strange enough.”
“I don’t care what they think,” she breathed, bending down to reach his lips.
Djeri took a step back, his cheeks flushed. “You need to start caring, Tarah. That’s what this conversation is about.”
“Why does it matter?” she asked.
“Because you’re asking for their help.”
Tarah cocked her head. “Helping me is their job.”
Djeri sighed. “Yes, you hired the academy. We’ve established that. But trust me, you don’t want the people fighting at your side despising you or even just looking at you as a client. You should be making friends with them.”
“Djeri, people don’t like me. I’m used to it,” Tarah replied.
“I like you,” he said. “Look, we’re going to be working with these people for who knows how long. You want them to fight beside you because they want to. Trust me. If you treat them with respect, they won’t be able to help but like you.”
Grampa Rolf started to say something, but Tarah muted his words in her mind. Perhaps it was time she stopped listening to him altogether.
“Alright,” she said. “I’ll act nicer. I can be a nice person.”
“Not good enough,” Djeri said, once again catching her off guard. “Tarah, you don’t need to ‘act’ like anything. Stop pretending to be something you’re not. Just be yourself. People will respect that.”
“Riiight. Myself,” Tarah said slowly. Be herself? How was she supposed to do that when she wasn’t even sure who that was? “Djeri, the only person I know how to be myself around is you.”
“Good thing I’ll be with you, then.” He turned and began walking up the incline towards the others. “Come on. We should catch up. You too,
Neddy.”
Tarah watched the dwarf walk away, feeling a mixture of affection for him and apprehension for the task ahead. Could she do this? If it weren’t for Esmine, she wouldn’t be trying. That’s it, she thought. Focus on Esmine. She’s the reason I’m doing this.
Neddy snorted and stomped the ground. When Tarah still didn’t move, he nudged her.
“Right. I’m going.” She scratched the mule behind his ears and jogged to reach Djeri’s side.
They walked in silence for a few minutes. Djeri kept a quick pace, his short legs pumping so that they could catch up to the others. Neddy followed behind them. The whole time, Tarah kept glancing at Djeri, but he kept his eyes ahead. Suddenly she realized that Djeri was doing exactly what Grampa Rolf had taught her to do. In the few minutes since breaking up her argument with Helmet Jan, the dwarf had taken charge and had her following him.
Tarah pursed her lips and looked to the top of the hill. The moment she saw the rest of the group disappear into the trees, she thrust out with her staff, tripping the dwarf up. Djeri stumbled and almost caught himself, but she gave him a nudge and he fell forward onto the frozen ground. As soon as he hit, she flipped him over and jumped on top of him.
“What in the-?” Djeri said, but then her lips were pressed against his. He froze for a moment, then returned the kiss, reaching up to grasp the back of her head. For a few moments Tarah allowed herself to tune out everything else.
Finally Tarah pulled back and sat up, straddling his hips. “Don’t go thinking you can just boss me around, Djeri the Looker.”
He squinted at her in confusion for a second, then laughed and placed his hands behind his head, a resigned look in his eyes. “Are they staring at us yet?”
“Nah, they were out of sight before I jumped you,” she said.
“Uh huh. Any farm hands?” he asked.
Tarah turned her head and saw, not fifty yards away, a man standing in the field next to a wheelbarrow. He was watching them wide-eyed, a frozen cow chip clutched in one hand. When he saw her notice him, he hurriedly dropped it into the half-full wheelbarrow and began pushing it up the hillside.
Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) Page 8