Wizard Gigantic (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 9)

by Rodney Hartman

  Minsk looked over at Tracer and said a few words of gibberish.

  Tracer shrugged her shoulders and said a few words back before handing her bowl and spoon to Richard.

  “I guess it’s official,” Richard told his battle computer. “I’ve got KP duty.”

  Skylark and Grapeon gave up their dirty dishes readily enough before lying down on their bedrolls and pulling their helmets down over their eyes. Tracer wandered over in the direction of Sergeant Thornbriar, taking her weapons with her. Richard noticed the two of them head out for the camp perimeter.

  “I calculate they are on guard duty,” said Nickelo as if Richard needed help figuring it out on his own.

  Placing all of the dishes in the empty pot, Richard grabbed one of the team’s water bags and headed for the river. Minsk walked with him, keeping his hand near the pommel of his sword the whole time. When they reached the riverbank, Richard cleaned the pot, bowls, and spoons in the muddy water before rinsing them out with clean water from the team’s water bag. Minsk watched him work, saying nary a word. Once the cleanup was complete, Richard wandered back to his team’s part of the camp and sterilized the pot and utensils over their fire-stone, then resumed his position leaning against the boulder.

  Minsk sat down on his bedroll. Instead of lying down and going to sleep like the rest of the team, the elf drew his sword, laid it across his lap, and stared at Richard.

  Richard pointed at the sword. “Still think I’m going to run, huh?”

  The elf shrugged and said a word of gibberish.

  Used to the elves’ distrust by now, Richard laid his head back against the boulder, closed his eyes, and dozed. For some reason, he dreamed of silver.

  Chapter 17 – Hot Chocolate

  ___________________________________

  At midnight, Amir felt someone shake his shoulder. With his hammer already in his hand, he opened his eyes ready to strike. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight for him to see it was Tracer waking him.

  “Time to get up, Elf Friend,” said Tracer. “I have already pulled Grapeon out of his bedroll. The two of you will be on the north side of the perimeter.”

  Sitting up, Amir sniffed the air. He noticed a wooden cup in Tracer’s free hand. A slight breeze wafted some of the steam coming off the cup in his direction. The smell reminded him of something hot and good on a cold winter’s day.

  “What do you have there?” he asked, nodding at the cup.

  Tracer smiled. “To tell you the truth, I do not really know, but it is delicious.” She used the cup to point toward the team’s fire-stone and the pot of liquid on top. Five wooden cups were sitting off to one side. “The human had this waiting for me when I got off guard. I talked to Minsk before he climbed into his bedroll. He said our friend Rick got up a few minutes ago and made a pot of whatever this is.” She handed the cup to Amir. “Try it. There is plenty.”

  Amir glanced toward the boulder where he’d last seen the human, finding the man sitting down with his back against the stone. The human’s eyes were closed, but at Amir’s glance, he raised a hand off his knee in apparent greeting before lowering it while his eyes remained closed.

  “No human is a friend of mine,” said Amir. “I don’t trust him.”

  Tracer shrugged before shoving the cup of steaming liquid into Amir’s hand. “Well, friend or not, the stuff is good. Either drink it or pour it out. I have already had two helpings. My bedroll is calling me now, so do what you want.” She walked over to her gear, spread the blanket out, and lay down, throwing a second blanket over her head. Her voice came out from underneath the cover. “By the way, the high priestess is still awake. Make sure you go over and have her cast a night-vision spell on you. A guard who cannot see in the dark is not much of a guard at night.”

  Amir tried to think of some witty reply, but heard a soft snore come from beneath the blanket before he could. Shrugging his shoulders, he absentmindedly took a sip from the cup. The liquid’s flavor burst on his taste buds. He took another sip. The light-brown liquid was hot and delicious. The sense of drowsiness he’d felt at being woke up from a deep slumber disappeared. He glanced over at the human. The man’s chin rested on his chest, his eyes closed.

  “I do not like the human,” said Grapeon as he wandered over sipping on a cup of his own. “I have to admit though, that this is good. I had something like it when I was deployed in the southern jungles. The tribes down there called it chocolate. They considered it a delicacy.”

  Draining his cup, Grapeon placed the empty vessel near the fire-stone and gathered up his weapons. “I will meet you on the north side of the perimeter. Tracer told me to make sure you have the high priestess cast a—”

  “Yeah, I know,” Amir laughed, feeling unusually cheerful for some reason. “I need a night-vision spell cast on me before I go on guard.”

  For the first time since they’d been together, Amir saw Grapeon smile.

  “That is right, Elf Friend. A blind guard that has to ask orcs to let him know if they are sneaking up on him is not much of a guard.” With that, Grapeon trotted off toward the north side of the camp’s perimeter.

  Hastily finishing his cup of chocolate, if that’s what it was, Amir placed the empty cup near the fire-stone. On a whim, he poured another cup of the liquid from the pot before picking up his hammer and shield and heading toward the west side of the camp where he knew he’d find High Priestess Mia. As Tracer had said, he found her awake and sitting on her bedroll reading a scroll. Amir noticed the blanketed forms of Master Freestrod and Lord Derander nearby.

  At Amir’s approach, the high priestess looked up. “Ah, Elf Friend. I have been expecting you. Tracer told me you would be coming over.”

  Amir shrugged. “Sorry to be a bother, High Priestess. We giants have many good things going for us, but the ability to see at night is not one of them.”

  “No matter,” said Mia. “It is a simple fix, and please use my friend name, Mia. I definitely consider you a friend.”

  Before Amir could reply, the elf waved her hand and muttered a word he heard but quickly forgot. The camp and everything around it suddenly took on a clarity resembling early morning twilight.

  “Shaman Blackroot mentioned that you were one of his apprentices,” said Mia. “I am surprised you are not able to cast a night-vision spell of your own.”

  Amir shrugged. “I’ve, err…been concentrating on offensive and defensive spells. Besides, our shaman night-vision spell’s complicated. I’m still an apprentice.”

  Mia smiled.

  A warm feeling passed over Amir. Her smile seemed to make the world a better place.

  “The night-vision spell I know,” said Mia, “is a simplified one-word spell passed down from my great-grandmother, High Priestess Shandristiathoraxen. Her old spell books have several incantations that are super-efficient. If you like, I could probably teach you her version of the night-vision spell.”

  “I would like that. Thank you, High, err…Mia.” He held out the cup to her. “Here. I thought you might like this.”

  Mia took the cup and sniffed. “Ah, I have been smelling hints of this on the breeze for the last few minutes. What is it, Elf Friend?”

  With a shrug, Amir said, “To be honest, I’m not really sure. Grapeon thinks it might be something called ‘chocolate.’ All I know is that it’s hot and seems to make the stress of the day disappear. The human made it. Oh, and please call me Amir. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being called Elf Friend. That’s a name for legends. I’m just me.”

  Mia smiled before taking a sip of the liquid, then her smile grew larger. “It is delicious. The human made it, you say? He is a strange one, is he not?”

  “He’s a human. They’re all strange as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Perhaps,” said Mia. “But this one is even stranger. The team we sent to follow his trail returned earlier this evening. They said his tracks just appeared in the middle of the desert as if he’d been teleported there.”


  Amir frowned. “Teleported? Then he is a spy. I figured as much. Humans cannot be trusted.”

  “I am not so sure. Many things are going on that I am unsure about. The mountains are rumbling more every day. I fear our time is growing short. The Oracle was very specific about our path to the coast. I have been wondering if she intended for us to meet this human.”

  “You’re saying she wanted us to meet a spy?”

  Mia shrugged. “If a spy he is. All I know is that the odds of accidentally running into a single person in a desert as large as this one boggles the mind. I believe we were supposed to meet him. I only wish he could speak our language.” She drained the last of her cup and flashed a smile. “Thank you, Amir. I feel more relaxed than I have in days. If you do not mind, I think I will try to get some sleep now.”

  Amir took the empty cup and put it in his pocket.

  As he started to walk away, the high priestess said, “Stay alert out there tonight, Amir. Commander Astradis says he has seen the tracks of orcs all day. The quakes have undoubtedly driven them from their mountain homes. We are not nearly as far from the ambush site as I would like to have been before we camped. I would prefer not to join those unfortunate humans in death, if we can help it.”

  Amir nodded in agreement and headed off to join Grapeon at their assigned guard post.

  Their shift was uneventful. When they were relieved by Skylark and Minsk, they returned to their bedrolls to get a few more hours rest before dawn. Awakened thirty minutes before first light by Sergeant Thornbriar, they joined the rest of the platoon on the perimeter. Everyone knew orcs had a nasty habit of attacking less watchful groups while they were still in their bedrolls right before dawn. As it turned out, no one attacked. After waiting on the perimeter with weapons at the ready for a half hour, Sergeant Thornbriar came by and gave them their orders.

  “We leave in thirty minutes,” said the sergeant. “Get your gear ready and get something in your stomachs. The high priestess wants to reach the mountains before nightfall. We will not be stopping for lunch, so it is going to be a long day.”

  Once Amir and the elves in his team got back to their part of the camp, he was surprised to see the four elves’ and his gear already rolled up and laying against their saddles. His bedroll was on top of the boulder where he’d last seen the human sitting. The man was currently kneeling next to a pot of steaming something that looked like a thick porridge. As Amir and the others passed by, the human handed each of them a bowl of the porridge along with a cup of hot chocolate.

  “Hmmm,” said Tracer as she took the bowl and cup. “I think I could get used to this.” She glanced around at the other teams of elves chewing on a chunk of summoned black bread and a strand of jerky. “Too bad you are not in our team,” Tracer said in a voice loud enough to carry through half the camp. “Maybe tonight, if the rest of you ask nicely, we will let Rick here cook you a hot supper. Just bring your food pots over, and we will see what we can do.” She winked at Amir. “Of course, we will expect something in return.”

  “Like what?” said an elf corporal in the team closest to them, looking none too happy about gnawing on his strand of dried meat.

  “Oh, nothing much,” laughed Tracer. “Maybe you can clean our dishes and roll up our gear in the morning. Now would that be too much to ask for a nice hot bowl of stew tonight?”

  The corporal growled something Amir couldn’t make out, but he had a feeling the corporal and his team would be visiting them at supper with their food pot in hand.

  They traveled long and hard that day. As Sergeant Thornbriar had said, the high priestess did not call a halt at noontime. They did, however, dismount and walk their horses for an hour to give them a break before mounting again. Not that it mattered to Amir. He was walking anyway.

  The hard pace paid off. When night was still a good hour off, they found themselves at the foot of the mountains. With the aid of Commander Astradis’s monks, they located a secluded campsite in a side valley with a clear mountain stream running through. Minsk and Skylark found a patch of blueberries growing on the hill and began picking with gusto. After a few minutes, they handed a double handful of the berries over to the human along with the team’s share of supplies from the pack animals.

  As the human began cooking, Amir noticed elves from the other teams bringing over their cooking pots and fire-stones filled with their shares of black bread, rice, and jerky and then returning to their various parts of the camp to wait. Before long, eight pots were boiling away over fire-stones around the human. A ninth pot and fire-stone was added when High Priestess Mia walked over carrying the food supplies for Lord Derander, Master Freestrod, Commander Astradis, and herself.

  Amir half expected the human to balk at the extra work, but he seemed to go about his cooking with a smile on his face. He’s probably happy because he’s going to poison us all tonight, he thought only half joking.

  After a few minutes, the delicious aroma floating through the air from the nine pots convinced Amir that if they did indeed contain poison, it was probably going to be a pleasant death.

  Once the nine pots were steaming away, Amir watched the human walk over to the pack animals and take out two of the larger community pots from the supply boxes. No one tried to stop him. When the man returned to their part of the camp, he placed the berries Skylark and Minsk had found in one pot along with three handfuls of rice, a half dozen loaves of the black bread, and some water. Then he covered the pot with a lid and placed it over a fire-stone. After that, he crumbled some of the black bread into the second community pot and added water before placing it over a free fire-stone. Once done, he sat down with his back against a boulder and stared at the cookpots.

  Amir sensed a ghost of something reach out from the human and touch one of the larger pots. The something was so subtle, he was half convinced he’d imagined it. That is, he was half convinced until he smelled the now familiar aroma of hot chocolate drifting throughout the camp. He noticed several elves in the teams around him sniffing the air and glancing over at the fire-stones while they laid out their gear. By the time everyone had their bedrolls out and the first guards were set on the perimeter, the meal was ready. Although Amir tried his best not to show his eagerness, he found himself third in line.

  The human ladled a large spoonful of stew onto a plate and handed it to him.

  Bringing the plate close to his nose, Amir sniffed. It looks like what we had last night, but it smells different, he thought. Before he could investigate further, the human scooped what looked like a bread pudding with berries in it onto a leaf and handed it to him along with a cup of the chocolate. Forgetting about the difference in the smell, Amir made his way to a convenient rock, sat down, and began eating. It was the best meal he could remember having in a long time.

  Once most of the elves finished their meal, the corporal in the squad nearest Amir’s team came over with his companions and dutifully took the pots and dirty bowls to the stream.

  Amir noticed the human wander over to a boulder and start to sit down.

  “Nope,” said Tracer. “Not tonight, Rick.”

  The human remained standing and looked at Tracer, mumbling a few words of gibberish.

  “What’s up?” Amir asked, almost as curious as the human to find out what Tracer had up her sleeve. “We’ve all got guard duty in a few hours. You should probably get some rest.”

  Tracer shook her head. “Not yet. We still have a little light left. I want to show Rick a few moves with a sword.”

  “A sword?” said Grapeon. “What on Portalis for? I have been leery enough of him using one of our knives to cut up the jerky. Do you think it wise to give him a sword?”

  “Yes, I do,” said Tracer. “He needs to be trained. I heard Commander Astradis tell the high priestess he has seen signs of large bands of orcs moving around near here. If we get hit by the same group that took out those humans, we may need everyone fighting to keep us alive. That includes Rick. I want to see what he ca
n do with a weapon.”

  “Now look,” said Grapeon. “Letting him cook for us is one thing. Giving him a sword is another. You know as well as I that a fool with a sword can do as much damage to his own side as he can to the other. For all we know, the man has never used a sword or spear before.”

  “Well, that is what I intend to find out,” said Tracer. “Minsk, give Rick your sword. Tie the blade in its sheath like we do when we train new recruits.”

  Removing his sword and scabbard from his belt, Minsk tied a thong around the guard to make sure the weapon stayed sheathed. He handed the sword to the human, then took a seat on a rock next to Amir.

  “This should be interesting,” whispered Minsk.

  The human hefted the short sword in his hand as if trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. He looked at Tracer and mumbled some of his gibberish.

  Tracer grinned and took off her own sword, keeping it in its scabbard and securing it in place with a piece of leather thong. Once done, she raised her sword into an on-guard position.

  The human stared at her for couple of heartbeats before a half-smile crept over his lips. He said a word of gibberish and raised his own sword to a guard position, then touched Tracer’s weapon with the side of his blade at the halfway point.

  “Watch it, Tracer,” laughed Minsk. “I think he has had some military training.”

  Tracer took her eyes off the human long enough to glance at the dark-haired elf. “I am the best at swords in the platoon. I think I can handle a lone hu—”

  Tracer’s sword and scabbard went flying through the air. The human touched the point of his scabbarded sword to the left side of Tracer’s chest and said a word that sounded like touché.

  Minsk, Skylark, and Grapeon broke out in laughter along with several of the elves in the nearby teams. A red-faced Tracer turned toward Minsk.