“Gah!” Grimbledung added.
Teeth grabbed Grimbledung’s thrashing legs in a vice-like grip. “Stop that!”
The two Elves carried the struggling Gnome in silence back to the main platform. “Keep it up and we’ll tenderize you something good!” Warned Leaves.
“Over my dead body!”
“No man, you’re alive when we tenderize you,” said Teeth as he looked back over his shoulder. When they got back to the large platform, ‘The Commons’ as it was called, the two made for one of the smaller structures, just to the left of the largest one.
“Let’s get him going, then we’ll let the Chief know.”
“Sure thing, Leaves.”
Grimbledung picked up his head to look where they were going. “Where we going?”
“Kitchen, man,” said Teeth. “For preppin’.”
“Ohh. You know what you should do?” When neither Elf answered, Grimbledung pressed on, “Fatten me up. That way I can feed more of you folk.”
“How long would that take?”
“I don’t know. Give it a couple of years?”
Teeth shook his head. “No way man. Why do you think we’re not farmers and we live up here instead of down in the dirt?”
“For the view?”
Grimbledung nodded, “Yeah! What Leaves said! For the views!”
Teeth shook his head. “No man. It’s cause of the views.”
The pair pushed past the curtain into the dimly lit enclosure. There was a large platter in the middle of a lone table. Evenly spaced rings were attached to its edge. The walls were lined with shelves filled with all manner of jars and sacks. The cacophony of smells from all the spices intermixing was overwhelming. As they moved to the platter, they flipped Grimbledung over so he was face down.
“Hey now!”
The two quickly lashed his arms and legs to the conveniently placed loops. Grimbledung was tied in place on all fours. “This isn’t very comfortable”
“Go tell the Chief, then get the chef. I’ll get started,” said Leaves.
Without even looking back at the Gnome, Teeth left the room.
“Can we talk this over?” Grimbledung craned his head around to get a look at the remaining Elf. “Maybe work out some sort of deal?” He wasn’t able to see the Elf. For the slightest of moments he thought he too had left. Until he heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being dragged across a leather strap. “Hold on now!”
Leaves pulled off Grimbledung’s shoes and tossed them aside. Placing the knife between his pants and his skin, he slid it upwards- neatly cutting the pants all the way up one side.
“Hey! Those were practically new!”
Leaves dropped the knife on the platter and with a stout tug, yanked Grimbledung’s pants off.
“Hell-O!”
“Would you be quiet, man? I’m trying to work.” Leaves picked up the knife and moved to Grimbledung’s head.
“I’m sure I appreciate...” began Grimbledung as the Elf slipped the knife up his sleeve. With another upward thrust, he cut Grimbledung’s shirt off from the wrist to the shoulder on one side. “... being in this predicament,” he continued as Leaves worked on the other sleeve. Within moments, Grimbledung’s shirt was reduced to a tunic. Leaves once again dropped the knife noisily on the platter. “... so if we could talk this over...” Leaves yanked the remaining bit of Grimbledung’s shirt off. “... I’m sure we can come to an arrangement.” The Elf turned to a full shelf, then back to the Gnome. “... that’s mutually beneficial?”
Leaves turned back to the shelf and rummaged in a bin. When he turned back around, he had a large, red apple in his hand. “Could you keep quiet?” He said testily as he shoved the apple into Grimbledung’s open mouth. “Finally.” He turned back around to peruse the spices and herbs. “MAN!”
Grimbledung masterfully maneuvered the apple around with his lips and tongue, eating it as he went. His most recent meal, after all, had been just a couple of overripe onions. And that had been hours ago.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grimbledung ala Elf?
Leaves turned back with a jar in each hand. His eyes narrowed as he saw the apple was missing. “Man, you’re really asking for some tenderizing.”
Grimbledung smacked his lips. “I was hungry. What’s a Gnome to do?”
“Stop eating the garnish, man,” warned the Elf. “I’m warning you. It’s garnish!”
“Just one more apple? My stomach’s growling with all this talk of feasting.” He waggled his ears, “Just one more and I’ll be good for a little bit. Promise.”
Leaves put the jars on the table. He reached down below the table and took a large wooden mallet off its peg. He lifted the mallet into Grimbledung’s view. The head of the mallet was rounded from years of use, and alarmingly, stained dark. “You’re bringing me down, man.”
Grimbledung gulped. “That one apple was plenty.”
Leaves tossed the mallet onto the table. It clattered against the platter the Gnome was on. “It better be, man.” He opened one of the jars and poured half of the thick, dark liquid in it onto Grimbledung’s back. He put the jar down and began to massage the oil in.
“That feels great,” admitted Grimbledung as he relaxed. “Very nice indeed.”
“Tastes good too.”
Grimbledung was shocked back to reality. He was on the verge of getting cooked and eaten! Focus, Grim! You’re in a tight spot!” Tight spot? Tight spot! Grimbledung waggled his ears. “You know the best part of a pig when you cook them?”
Leaves continued to massage in the spiced oil. “What part of a pig isn’t good? They’re made of bacon, man.
“True enough. But if you had to pick a favorite, what would it be?”
“Ribs of course.”
Grimbledung shook his head. “Fatty and take a lot to cook right. And they don’t got a lot of meat on them. Want to guess again or you want me to tell you?”
Leaves let out a loud sigh. “Which has you talkin’ less?”
“The one where you don’t guess.”
“What, man?”
“The knuckles.”
“Knuckles?”
“Well, that’s just my opinion, but I have to tell you, the meat there is real tender and they don’t have a lot of fat, and you get to eat them with your hands which is always a fun part of any meal, when you actually are supposed to eat with your hands, which is what you get to do when you eat pigs knuckles because you really can’t eat them with a knife, which is why I think they are the best part of a pig.” He hazarded a glance at the Elf.
“Really?”
“Yeah! It’s true.”
“No, man. I meant really that was the shorter of the two?”
“Sure.” He smiled at the Elf. “It’s just an opinion, mind you, but we Gnomes are known for our cooking abilities too. When I’m roasting a pig, I baste all the knuckles first because that’s the part I’m eating.”
“Yeah. That’s true. I always do the back first because I like ribs.”
“You’re missing out, not trying a knuckle or two.”
Leaves looked back and forth from the Gnome’s back to his hands. Then he looked at the Gnome’s feet. “Knuckles, huh?”
“It’s the way to go you know. Ask around. You’ll see.”
Leaves thought this over as he continued to rub the oil in, now working down the Gnome’s back.
Teeth peeked his head into the prep-room. “Hey, man. The Chief said she’s gonna stop by in a little.” He glanced back. “So make sure you’re ready.” He snapped his fingers, “Oh, right. She said to make sure you have his knuckles good and seasoned. That’s her favorite part, man.” With that, he ducked back out of the room.
“See? Told you.”
“Oh, man. I never knew.” Teeth bent in and examined Grimbledung’s wrists.
“Look tasty don’t they?” He winked. “That’s ‘cause they are.”
“Sure man. They gotta be if the Chief called a dibbance on them.” H
e frowned. “Now I wanna try a knuckle.”
“Well, you’re in luck, Leaves,” said Grimbledung. “Because I have four of them. So just season up my hands, wrists, feet and ankles and you’re bound to get one, right?”
Leaves considered this for a moment. “Yeah.” He moved to the shelves and picked up a medium-sized pouch. “So I got to use the royal stuff for that, man.” He turned around, holding the bulging pouch reverently.
“What’s that?”
“Royal spices. He held up the pouch. It was worn a leather sack. The tiny stitching holding it together seemed to be silver. An equally worn strap ran through the opening of the pouch, which when it was closed, was long enough to be hung around the neck. There were small glass beads spread evenly on the strap. “Real hard to get so we only use a little bit at a time.” He turned his attention to Grimbledung’s hands and wrists, massaging the oils and sprinkling miniscule amounts of the royal spices on them
“That’s all you use?”
“It goes a long way, man. And like I told you; it’s really rare and really valuable. It’s our most prized possession. Now for the haunches.”
“Legs and feet, if you please. I may be a meal, but I’m not a beast.”
“Legs and feet, man.” Leaves corrected himself as he moved to the Gnome’s feet. “Then I’ll get the rest of you.”
“For them that aren’t in the know.” He waggled his ears again.
“Right, man. Thanks.”
“What are meals for?”
The Elf worked in silence as Grimbledung twisted his wrists back and forth. Originally tight, the oil had not only soaked into the rope and loosened the knots, it had made his wrists slick.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Little Known Fact- Elves Can See in the Dark
Halflings? Not so much
Righty peeked over the edge of the balcony he had climbed up to. The coast seemed clear. “Let’s go, Skies,” he whispered over his shoulder as he rolled onto the deck. He remained prone as Skies followed suit and rolled beside him.
“Where you think we should go?” Asked Skies. “We’re going to get spotted if we just wander around.”
Righty looked behind them at the structures there, then the ones in front of them. “They have to be holding him near the center of town.”
“There’s more lights that way,” Skies pointed behind them as he lifted himself up on an elbow. “Of course, the middle of town is going to be crawling with stinking Elves.”
“Well, we’ll keep to the shadows until we get close. Hopefully we’ll spot him before we get spotted. Just remember we don’t want to kill any of them.”
“It still sounds crazy. Not killing someone.”
“We can’t kill them all,” said Righty as he moved to a crouched position, “so we’ll not give them reason to come after us.” He looked down at his companion. “Right?”
“Right, right, I get why we’re doing it. It just sounds crazy.” He smiled back at Righty. “You’re all right, Righty. They’re gonna write songs about us.”
“As long as they aren’t posthumous, that works for me.” He slapped the other’s shoulder, “Let’s go.”
The two crawled to the bridge. Being Halflings, they were also much smaller than any of the Elves –except for the younglings – and moving low to the flooring kept them out of anyone’s line of sight. Even so, at one point, they had to hang under the bridge to allow a trio of Elves to move past. They clambered back atop the bridge and made their way quickly to the other side. “I say we never do that again,” said Skies.”
“Fine by me,” agreed Righty. “That’s a long way up to be hanging.” The two crouched in the shadows at the edge of what looked to be the commons for the town. There was a large table set up in the very middle of it, surrounded by torches. “That’s pretty bright out there.”
“Well,” said Skies, “that stupid Gnome isn’t out there yet, so he has to be in one of those buildings on the far side, there.” He pointed at the structures at the other side of the large platform. He looked to his side. “Keep to the edge and I think we can skirt the edges to get there,”
Righty nodded. “Right behind you.”
The two scooted along the edge of the large platform, hiding behind railing posts and barrels as they made their way to the back of the first building.
“Stick your head in and see what this place is,” suggested Skies.
Righty nodded. He stood and pressed his back against the wall. He sidestepped his way towards the front of the building. The front was fully exposed to anyone who happened by. To make matters worse, it was awash in torchlight. Cautiously, he made his way to the window. Grabbing the edges of it, he pulled himself up to peek in. It was empty, containing only bags and barrels. Quickly and quietly, he retraced his path. “It’s some sort of storeroom. No one is in there.”
Skies nodded. “Next one, then.” The pair moved along the backs of the buildings freely- thanks to them being in near darkness.
An Elf, one level higher and behind The Commons sat on the edge of the platform, feet dangling in the breeze. He had his chin resting on a rope railing as he watched the two Halflings with amused interest. He didn’t know what they were doing, but knowing Halflings, it was probably not friendly. He frowned as he pulled himself upright. At least they hadn’t tried to kill anyone. Yet. He heard someone approach from behind him. “Say, MoonBeam,” he called behind him. He was still watching the two Halflings as they snuck around the larder and prep-house. Word had spread about the interlopers quickly. They were now the most amusing thing happening in the entire of TreeTop City and were gaining quite an audience.
“How you doing?” Asked Moonbeam.
“Bored. Not too much going on. Getting hungry too.”
“Feast’ll start soon.”
“There’s a pre-show now.”
“Yeah?” Moonbeam moved beside the male.
“Yeah.”
“Are you… What sort of show, Love?”
“Well, it’s kind of a show. Sort of.”
“What?”
“Couple of Halflings sneakin’ ‘round in The Commons. It’s funny.”
“That is funny.” said MoonBeam as she nudged him. “Want to see something else funny, Love?”
“Sure,” said Love.
She held up a sack. It was bouncing around.
“What’re you carryin’ in that sack? Seems upset t’be in there.”
MoonBeam watched as the taller of the Halflings made his way back from the front of the larder. The taller one had stepped forward when she had held up the sack. He was now staring straight at her. She and Love stood still. In the darkness, they were invisible to regular eyes. She looked over at her mate. She could clearly see his wide grin. Finally, after a short discussion, the other one made their way to the front of the prep-house and the tall one stepped back into ‘the shadows’.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I came across a Halfling hiding in the shadows over by Lovers Ladder. I figured I’d bring him up.” She watched as the Halfling pressed himself against the back of the prep-house and tried to remain in the shadows. With her Elf-ears, she could hear snickers here and there. She giggled as well. “That is funny.”
“Yeah.”
“Say,” began MoonBeam, “let’s go bring this one to them ones. Put all our Halflings in one basket.”
“Like a fryin’ basket?” Love raised an eyebrow. “I’d love a fried Halfling toe. Or three.”
MoonBeam shrugged as she tossed the sack over her shoulder. The Halfling in it grunted as he bounced on her back. His mouth had been gagged with several wraps of rope. “Who’s the Cuisinier tonight?”
“Leaves.”
“Leaves? Really? Wasn’t he the Commis just a month ago?”
“He’s got the touch.” Love gestured for his wife to lead the way. “Let’s see what he can whip up with some Halflings.”
MoonBeam nodded as she moved toward the bridge that ultimately would lead to The Commons
. Being a level above and to the side, there were several bridges to cross and even a set of stairs. The two kept their eyes on the Halflings as well as they could as they went.
Righty stepped away from the building and looked up at the trees. He thought he had seen movement above him. He stared intently into the darkness but saw nothing.
“You see something?” Asked Skies.
“No. Must have been a bird or something. Check this building so we can get off this level. Someone’s bound to spot us sooner or later.” Skies obliged by slipping behind his partner-in-crime and began to move towards the front of the building. Righty stepped back into the safety of the shadows. He tightened his grip on his club- just in case. “Make it quick, Skies” he hissed to his partner as he moved out of sight.
Skies moved along the building’s wall, taking care not to rub against it. The last thing he needed to do was alert anyone inside of his approach. When he reached the corner, he looked out into the open area where the table was. There was a lone Elf carrying a large basket. He was placing knives down at each place setting. His back was to Skies. Perfect! Skies quickly scooted around the corner and peeked under the curtain. The room had shelves of spices and jars lining the walls. In the middle was a large wooden table with a large oval pan on it. And a well-worn mallet. Skies looked down at the branch he held in his hand. Suddenly, it looked completely ineffectual. With a shrug, he ducked under the curtain and grabbed the mallet. Moving back to the curtain, he peeked out. The Elf was near the edge of the long table (it sat at least fifty per side) and getting ready to start the other side. Now or never! He dropped his stick in a bucket by the door and squeezed by the curtain, then around the corner before the Elf turned to face him. Stealthily, he made his way back to Righty. “He’s not in there. Want to check the other building?”
Here's Looking For You, Grim (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 3) Page 17