“No.” Mantodea said harshly. “You’ve no savings?” She said, even harsher.
“Well, not no savings,” Grimbledung waved his free hand dismissively at her. “No savings, honestly.” In all honesty he had no idea what was in their savings accounts. For him, anything over ten coins would have been practically uncountable. “That’d be absurd.” He turned to the Cheese Monger - who was eyeing him suspiciously since he had eaten several coppers of cheese and not ordered anything yet. “Let’s see. What will it be this time?” He considered the very long table of vastly different cheeses. “I think I’ll try a block of Elfish Asiago and half a block of that Brie to see what that’s like.” He looked up and down the table again. “And a box of Epoisses de Ogre, if you please.” He leaned into Mantodea, “The toots from that stuff’ll clear a room! But it goes great with ale,” he added quickly, “so that makes up for it.” He turned back to the Cheese Monger, “And I suppose a quarter wheel of Hooligan to finish it off”. He turned back to Mantodea, “Mainly because I like the name,” he said with a wink. He looked at the Cheese Monger. “To Second...”
“Yes,” interrupted the woman. “I know; Second-Hand Sorcery,” said the Cheese Monger, “I know”. The Gnome’s antics always annoyed her- he routinely ate one of each cheese she had out for sampling. It wasn’t the fact that he ate the cheeses that bothered her; that’s what they were there for. It was the fact that he ate them all at once, never appreciating their individual flavors. And then after supposedly thinking of what to order, he always ordered the exact same cheeses. Week after week. Or more precisely, bi-weekly after bi-weekly.
“That’s a lot of cheese. You’re just buying cheese?”
Grimbledung snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s right., thanks! I need bread too. It’s the most importantest thing when you’re eating cheese.” He considered that for a moment. “Along with the wine, ale, and meat, that is.”
“And that’s economizing? Are you shopping for the month?”
Grimbledung moved towards the smell of baking bread, towing the Dwarfess along with her. “Well, it’s supposed to be a week’s worth of food, but it never seems to work out that way.”
“How long does this usually last?”
“A half a week, so four days usually.”
“And that’s economizing?” Mantodea fumed. Out of money? All this time and effort and they’re out of money? The Gnome was saying something, but in her anger she didn’t hear. It didn’t matter anyway- the Gnome seemed oblivious to pretty much anything and everything that didn’t involve food. Mantodea shook her head as she muttered: “It only takes one crazy to cut the profits in half. I knew better from the stories I heard, but did I listen to them? No. Not at all.”
Warning bells went off in Grimbledung’s head. Something was definitely amiss. He shrugged out of the Dwarfess’ arm. “Just hold on a grain of sand!”
Mantodea’s insides clenched up as she realized her mistake.
“Now just hold on a grain of sand,” said Grimbledung again. “What’s going on here, I ask! What indeed?” He waggled his finger at the gaping Dwarfess. “I didn’t order Drim’s Cheddar.” He turned towards the Cheese Monger. “And a quarter wheel of Cheddar!” He shouted at her.
The Cheese Monger stared at the Gnome. She was already preparing to cut the Cheddar; he always ordered a quarter wheel. After everything else. And always from afar. She gave him a thumb’s up. He waggled his thumb back at her. As usual. She took her extended thumb and placed it on the scale as she weighed the Gnome’s cheese. As usual.
“What?” Asked Mantodea, flummoxed.
“Forgot Drimblerod’s Cheddar. Bad form, that.” He snaked his arm back through hers. “Bread’s now at the top of the list.” He pulled the dumfounded female along as he made his way to the large (yet portable) brick ovens.
As Mantodea expected, the routine there mirrored the one for purchasing cheese.
“You sure you’re economizing?” She asked after he had ordered what seemed to be an absurdly large amount of bread.
“That’s what Drim said,” assured Grimbledung. “So I’m not ordering anything real expensive, or any more ale.”
“You’re not ordering anymore ale.” She said, relieved.
Grimbledung skidded to a halt. He squinted at Mantodea. “What kind of game you trying to play me for?”
“I’m not even sure how to answer that,” she replied. Honestly.
“Of course I’m ordering ale.” He began walking again. “One date, and another happening soon and you’re already trying to tell how to live my drinking life?” He scowled at her.
Now Mantodea scowled at him. “Now hold on right there.” Money or no, there were lines. And they were being crossed. “It wasn’t me that said you weren’t ordering anymore ale.” She pulled her arm out of his. “You said that, you loon.” She poked him in the chest. “YOU.”
“No I didn’t” He shook his finger at her.
“Yes you did!” She shook her finger at him.
“No, I didn’t.” Grimbledung poked her in the chest.
“Yes, you did!” She poked him in the chest. Hard.
Several people turned to watch the display.
“No. I didn’t!” Grimbledung poked Mantodea in the chest again. “Grrrr!”
“You did not just growl at me!”
“Yes. I did!” Grimbledung waggled his butt. “GRRrrrRRR!” He snarled as he leapt at Mantodea. He caught her across the chest with his body perpendicular to hers. For the briefest of moments, they formed a Dwarfess-Gnome cross in the middle of the Farmer’s Market. Then they crashed to the ground, Grimbledung on top. He tilted his head back, looking at the sky. “Ahhh Ooohhh!” He howled.
Mantodea thrashed under the Gnome. “Get off me you insane Gnome!” She grabbed him by the shoulder and tried to wrestle him off. This Gnome is a complete animal! She paused for the briefest of moments. That’s a nice change of pace from the normal, fat, boring business owner. I kind of like that. If nothing else, it’s refresh... Mantodea was brought out of her introspection as Grimbledung bit her on the shoulder. “Hey!”
“GRRRR!” Said Grimbledung. For good measure he added: “Ahhh- OOOOohhhh!”
On the far side of the market, Drimblerod looked up as a howl wafted through the air. “Uh oh,” he said as he put down a deep red pepper.
“What?” Asked Bextra. She had approached Drimblerod in much the same way her partner approached his partner. And with the same plan. She did not notice the howl.
“I need to find Grim.”
“Now? But we’re picking out peppers.” Bextra pouted. “Together even.”
Drimblerod was torn- the urge to stay with the gloriously attractive Dwarfess was overwhelming. Still, the last thing he needed was Grimbledung tearing up merchants’ tables and Second-Hand Sorcery on the hook for the damages. He looked at Bextra. She pulled in her lip then smiled. Drimblerod gazed at her dimples. “Well, maybe he’s all right on his own. He’s a big Gnome and responsible for his...” He was interrupted by another howl. He shook his head. “No, I need to go see what’s going on before it gets expensive.” He took her hand and pulled her along with him as he moved in the direction of the howl.
Mantodea finally got a good enough grip on the Gnome to maneuver him around. There was plenty of space as the crowd had moved into a typical fight-watching ring around the thrashing pair. “Get off me!” She shouted as she got him parallel to her again. She wrapped her legs around him and pushed off with one elbow, flipping him sideways, then over on his back, putting her on top. Having three older brothers had caused her to become a fairly competent wrestler. “Hah!” She said as she leaned in close to look at the suddenly uncontrolled, unexpectedly virile Gnome. “What do you say to that?”
Grimbledung looked up at the Dwarfess. Her face seemed lost in a sea of red to him. “Grrr!” He said angrily - not really sure why he was angry. Then another feeling intermixed with the angry. Something quite the opposite. “Grrr-RRR?” He said again
. He reached up and took her wrists in his hands in a vain attempt to try and get them off his shoulders. She had him pinned down quite well- her knees were pressed in tight against his hips, keeping him in place. Having had three older sisters had caused him to become a fairly useless wrestler -although he was a master when it came to throwing tea parties, sewing dresses, and applying makeup. On others, anyway.
Mantodea growled at Grimbledung as she moved her face closer to his. Now his face was lost in a sea of red to her, though not of anger. This was a different feeling. Completely different. “What do you say to that?” She said huskily, her nose almost touching his.
Grimbledung kissed Mantodea.
Mantodea kissed Grimbledung.
The thrashing continued, but the fight was definitely over. After a moment, the crowd realized what was happening. Most turned away out of embarrassment. Some more out of disgust. Two continued to watch.[12]
Drimblerod moved through the large group of people suddenly around him. Did a street performer just finish an act? He turned sideways clearing a path for Bextra- whom he was still pulling along. “Lots of people all of a sudden,” he said over his shoulder. He turned to look ahead as the crowds suddenly disappeared and he was in a large open area. Movement on the ground caught his eye. He looked down. “Grimbledung Sixtoes! Stop wrestling that female!” Only a moment before, Grimbledung and Mantodea had rolled over, switching positions. “You can’t just go attack...” He realized what he was seeing. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you two doing in the middle of the market?!”
Grimbledung looked up at his partner. Then down at Mantodea. Then he looked back at his partner. Then back at Mantodea. He sat back. “She started it,” he said breathing hard. He pointed an accusatory finger at her, hoping that would help his case.
“You. Or actually both of you are going to get arrested!” Drimblerod looked around. “I mean, honestly.”
Bextra moved beside Drimblerod. “Mant? What’s going on here?”
Mantodea looked at her partner. Then to Grimbledung. Then she looked at her partner. Then back at Grimbledung. “He started it,” she said. She crab-walked from under the Gnome. “I think.”
Grimbledung hopped to his feet. “See? I was just minding my own business; ordering cheese and bread and so forth. When all of a sudden...”
“Yeah, we saw the ‘and so forth’, Grim.” Drimblerod gestured around the market. “I think everyone did, in fact.”
Grimbledung offered his hand to Mantodea. She took it and he yanked her to her feet. Since she was prepared this time, she tensed her neck, saving herself any whiplash. He continued to pull her forward until she was against him. “When all of a sudden,” he said again, his voice taking on a gravely tone.
The two just looked at each other, noses almost touching.
Drimblerod cleared his throat.
Then Bextra did.
Mantodea finally stepped back and dusted herself off. “We were just discussing the tour,” she said in a business-like voice. She eyed him up and down. “That’s all.”
“That’s what that was?”
Mantodea looked at Bextra. “Yes. That was it,” she said tersely. Then she looked at Drimblerod. “We’ll see you this evening.”
“I’ll bet.” Drimblerod remarked.
“Let’s go, Bextra. We need to get prepared for this evening.”
“I’ll bet.” This time it was Grimbledung. He eyed Mantodea up and down. Hungrily.
Drimblerod moved beside his partner as the two Dwarfesses walked off. “What came over you, Grim?”
“I’m not sure. One minute we were arguing and the next minute we were wrestling. Then the next minute...” His voice trailed off.
“Well, I have to tell you, I don’t have a good feeling about Bextra.” He shook his head as he looked at his friend. “Some of the things she said really didn’t sit well with me.”
“Mantodea sat well with me.”
“I’ll bet. Listen Grim, I’m not too sure about those two gals. Something doesn’t fit. But I can’t seem put my finger on it.”
“Maybe you can tonight.” Grimbledung leered.
“Well, at least the entendres are back. That’s a start.” He patted Grimbledung’s shoulder.
Grimbledung nodded. “So what’d she say that got you all heebie jeebie’d?” Grimbledung fell in step with his partner as he began to walk out of the market.
“Just a couple of comments about our cash flow,” said Drimblerod. “They seemed out of place. A little too personal mayhap.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean there aren’t folk out to get you,” reminded Grimbledung.
“That’s the word on the street, anyway.”
“Oh. I ordered your Cheddar.”
Drimblerod nodded. “Thanks. You didn’t shout it at her again, did you?”
“Who me?” Grimbledung did a double take at his partner. “I haven’t shouted at anyone all day.”
“All day?”
“All day,” assured Grimbledung.
“Well, fine then. You know we get charged extra when you shout at the merchants. I’m kind of tired of paying for thumbs that I don’t get to take home.” He smiled. “Or dance on their tables. We’re economizing you know.”
Grimbledung snapped his fingers. “That was it.”
“What was it?”
“Mantodea.”
“Mantodea is it?”
Grimbledung nodded. “Oh yeah...”
Drimblerod slapped his partner’s shoulder. “Snap out of it! You said ‘that
was it’ when I said we needed to economize. What ‘it’ was that?”
“Mantodea seemed upset we were economizing, is all.”
“So was Bextra. It seems odd that those two women would be that worried about our income. Kind of personal, that.”
Grimbledung stopped walking. Drimblerod took a couple more steps before stopping. He turned to look at Grimbledung. “It makes perfect sense, Drim.”
“How?”
“Well, these two gals are interested in us. Obviously. And they’re just curious about what kind of life we could give them if we ended up with them for an extended period of time.”
“Extended period of time?”
“Well, probably for the night...” Grimbledung leered. “For starters.”
“I suppose you’re right, Grim.” Drimblerod started walking towards the shop, the butcher long forgotten. “But we should be on our guard.”
“On our guard? We getting robbed?”
“We should be cautious is all I’m suggesting.”
“Cautious? There animals on the loose?”
“Take precautions.”
“Oohhhh...” Grimbledung leered.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Drimblerod blinked at his partner. “But that’s important too, now that I think about it.” He pointed off to his left. “Let’s take a quick detour by the apothecary. Just in case.”
Grimbledung leered.
Drimblerod shook his head. “Seriously. I wonder just how much of a chance meeting that was.”
“It was more like chance meetings on purposes” replied Grimbledung. “But either way, it looks to me like we have at least a convivial evening in store for us.”
“Convivial - really?”
Grimbledung grinned. “Been waiting to use it.” His grin turned into a leer. “Though I’m hoping for something a little more up close and personal that just plain old convivial.”
“I’ll bet.”
The pair detoured to the apothecary, chatting and joking as they went, once there, they went directly to the item they were wanting in silence, added some unnecessary item to fill the basket, then paid for the entire basket with straight faces, and left without more than a ‘Thanks’ to the shop owner. When they had left and were making their way to their shop, they both resumed talking and laughing.[13]
Chapter 25
Datin
g Gnomes For Sport and Leisure
Grimbledung closed Door behind himself. “So how long till them female folk get here?”
Drimblerod moved to the stairs, package under his arm. “Probably a couple of hours. Enough for a bath and a haircut, I think.”
“And a haircut?” Grimbledung ran his hands through his hair. “You think I need a haircut?”
“Several on each side, probably would be better.” Drimblerod snickered.
“Fine, fine.” Grimbledung ran his hands down his tunic. “I suppose that and a change of clothes is in order.”
“I’ll put the package upstairs and grab you a set of clothes. Get Rat to mind the shoppe.”
Grimbledung nodded as he moved to the backroom. “Dummy! Do you know where Rat is?”
Dummy nodded.
“Great!”
Grimbledung stared at Dummy.
Dummy stared at Grimbledung.
After a long moment, Grimbledung put his hands on his hips.
Dummy put his hands on his hips.
“Are you doing that on purpose?”
Dummy nodded.
“Do you know where Rat is?”
Dummy nodded.
“You know, the longer you’re around Rat, the more you act like him.”
Dummy nodded. As his head nodded down the second time, he let it rest on his chest. His arms went slack to his side.
“I know you’re not asleep, you know.”
Dummy startled ‘awake’ then put his hands on his belly as he laughed.
“A real jokester you are. We’re short on time you know. Where’s Rat?”
Dummy put his hands together, palms facing each other, then held them to the side of his head.
“I know you’re not asleep.”
Dummy shook his head. He held his hands close together, indicating something about a foot tall. Then he put his hands back to the side of his head.
A New Hope (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 4) Page 16