Chapter 5
Liam woke with a groan. Pain stabbed his head. He reached up and his fingers touched a bandage. His eyes flew open. Suddenly he was wide awake. He sat up with a jerk.
“Easy now lad,” said a familiar voice from the corner. “The fighting is all done. We’ve beaten the lot. Wizard, goblins and all.”
To Liam’s great surprise he found himself sitting in his own bed, the morning sun shining through the window. The Doormaster sat in the sunlight, his foot propped up on a short stool. The book he was reading lay open on his lap.
“But what happened? I heard the signal to attack. The explosion! Mica and Willow! They were alone at the bottom of the stair.”
“Easy…calm yourself. Everyone is fine. The signal you heard was a call for retreat.” The Doormaster carefully marked his page with a long red ribbon and laid aside his book. “They set off an explosion to seal their exit and prevent anyone from following. Rather noisy. Left quite a mess. It's being tended to though.”
The Doormaster eased his foot off the stool. It was bandaged almost to the knee. “Your friends are fine,” he said smiling. “They are waiting for you downstairs.” With the help of a cane the Doormaster stood and tucked his book under his arm.
“Sir, your leg?”
“Oh…” he said glancing down. “I managed to burn it somewhat when I kicked apart the fire.”
“Are you badly hurt?” asked Liam.
“Not so badly that I wish to miss breakfast,” he said with a wink. “From the sounds I’ve been hearing I’d judge your friends have been busy with skillet and pan.” With only a slight limp he crossed to the door. “The battle stories can wait until we’ve weighed their efforts.”
Liam sunk back into his bed, happy it was all over. Relieved everyone was safe. He closed his eyes for just a moment.
From down the hall the Doormaster called, “Come along at your own pace, but tarry and you may find nothing but crumbs.”
Liam smiled and kicked back the cover. After taking only a moment to wash his face he hurried down the stairs to see his friends.
The smell of flat cakes and spiced venison tickled his nose and reminded his belly that he had missed last night’s supper. From the kitchen rang the sound of laughter warming him like sunshine. Liam paused in the doorway.
Mica was setting a huge platter of flat cakes in the center of the table. “Awake at last I see.” A huge grin split his face. “That tap to the noggin hasn’t spoiled your timing any. You might sleep through the cooking but never the eating.”
Everyone including Liam burst into laughter. They all knew how he liked to sleep.
They all gathered round the table and settled in for breakfast. When at last everyone had eaten their fill, Liam stood up. “You were kind enough to let me sleep while you cooked, so allow me to care for the dishes while you sit though a final cup.” He began to clear away the mess, taking the dishes to the sink at the far side of the kitchen. Without a word Hodekin picked up a stack of dishes and followed him.
“Why…thank you Hodekin,” said Liam. This was the first real kindness the kobold had ever shown him.
Hodekin nodded in his general direction. Picking up a cloth he began to dry the dishes. “Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “I can be nice when I choose.”
“But why now,” blurted Liam, and then bit his tongue.
Hodekin stiffened up and Liam though he was going to storm off. Instead he picked up another bowl. “A fair question I guess, but I’ll wager you’ll not like the answer.” He placed the bowl down and turned to Liam. “When you showed up here at the master’s door all pink of cheek and green as grass I took you to be lacking grit. I couldn’t see why the master would want someone around that was so soft he would melt the first time it rained. But I was wrong about you. You stood up to that wizard when many would have run, and you saved the master.” Hodekin laid down his cloth and walked back to the table.
Liam was stunned. Had Hodekin just given him a compliment? He turned back to his dishes but they were all done. Still a little dazed he made his way back to the table.
When Liam returned to his chair, the Doormaster looked around the table and cleared his throat. “Harrumph…harrumph.” When he had everyone’s attention he began. “Never was any good at thinking when I was hungry but breakfast is out of the way and I would like try to do some now.” He leaned forward. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to link a magical door to a crate and then use it to attack us. I am puzzled as to why, and would like very much to know who was behind it.” He looked around the table. “I think each of us knows something about it and together we may be able to piece this puzzle together. I’ll add my piece first.
“Three days ago two rather rough looking men rode up in a cart. Said they had a crate for Liam. When I saw the size of the crate I was surprised. It nearly filled the cart.” The Doormaster looked over his rose tinted spectacles at Liam. “They claimed that your Aunt Eleana had passed and left her inheritance to you.”
“To me sir?” Liam said. “But, I don’t have an Aunt Eleana.”
“That is all very clear now,” said the Doormaster, “although at the time I had no reason to guess that.” He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his chest. “Being a Doormaster I was a little suspicious that the crate seemed rather light for its size. The two men were able to carry the crate down the stairs and into the spell room as if it were empty, which later of course proved to be the case. After the men had left, Hodekin and I pushed it back against one of the pillars and I secured it with a stout piece of rope.” He shook his head and frowned. “I have no idea how they could have untied the rope from the other side.”
Hodekin slowly climbed off his stool, removed his hat and stood next to the Doormaster’s chair. He stood looking at his shoes. “It was me master Ogden,” he said in a whisper. “I’m the reason trouble came to call. It was me that loosed the rope.”
Liam recognized the look of dejection on the Kobold’s face. He had felt the same way when the goblins had stolen Little Smoky and the cart. He knew firsthand about how bad simple decisions could turn out.
He jumped to his feet, “No! All this isn’t your fault.” He waved his finger at Hodekin. “Your magical disguises have caused me plenty of trouble, but I don’t believe you helped goblins attack the master.” He stopped for a breath. “Besides, it was you who tripped the dark wizard as he tried to cut the master down.”
Everyone looked startled at Liam’s defense. The little kobold stared up at Liam. His mouth worked but no words came out.
The Doormaster was the first to recover. He laid a hand on Hodekin’s shoulder. “No one believes you would have helped the goblins attack.”
“No, I didn’t help them…not on purpose anyway.” Hodekin turned to Liam. “It was just for a laugh.” He looked back at the Doormaster. “I didn’t know what the rope was for. I took it off so I could push the crate back into the shadows. I was going to disguise myself as the crate. Big surprise for Liam.” He smiled weakly. “Bad surprise for everyone.”
“Mistakes are made,” said the Doormaster. “What we do afterwards is what makes us who we are. It was very brave of you to admit to doing wrong, and you did your best to make something bad come out right.”
The Doormaster turned back to those at the table and said, “Well now, another piece has been added to the puzzle. At least we know how they got in. What else do we know about our attackers?”
As it turned out, Hodekin knew the most. He was still in the spell room when he heard the first goblin sneaking out of the crate. Thinking quickly he used his magic to disguise himself as a small table.
He watched as best he could, but as a table he couldn’t twist around to look over his shoulder. He thought there were four maybe five goblins and the dark wizard. When they spoke it was in harsh whispers. The wizard was obviously in charge. The master’s doors were mentioned several times, but they were looking for the Doormaster and his apprentice. They even mentioned Liam by name.
Then the room got quiet. Hodekin couldn’t see anyone and thought maybe they had gone back through the crate. He was just thinking of changing back to his regular shape when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
A figure passed by him, heading for the fire pit. With a stab of fear, Hodekin realized it was the Doormaster. He shouted out a quick warning. Suddenly the room was filled with goblins.
The Doormaster kicked apart the fire and dove into the shadows. The attack became a deadly game of hound and hare. Hodekin was beginning to despair, when Liam and his friends showed up to change the odds.
When the Doormaster saw his chance he made a break for the door. The dark wizard attempted to strike him down from behind, but Hodekin broke his magical disguise and managed to trip him. Only the armor the Dark Wizard wore beneath his robes saved him from Mica and Willow’s arrows.
With Liam’s help the Doormaster reached the safety of the stairs. The wizard had lost his chance. Signaling retreat, he led the attackers back to the crate. He wrenched it open and the goblins swarmed through the magic door and disappeared down a dimly lit hallway.
The wizard's black robes swirled as he swept through the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes locking on Hodekin. With a hiss, the black wizard plucked a fire globe off the wall and hurled it through the magic door. The kobold dove behind a pillar. The crate exploded sending a burst of planks and splinters shooting across the room.
The Doormaster listened intently until everyone had told their part. Then he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Well it would seem someone forged a weak link to a crate and had it delivered here. If the other door were within a few leagues it might not even have been a true doormaster.”
“You mean it might have been someone who links fire globes to the hearth or links rings to each other?” asked Liam.
“More likely someone who links poison to swords,” said Willow. She had been sitting quietly listing to everyone. Now she stood and paced back and forth. “All this trouble on the road, goblins with magic swords, and now goblins allied with a dark wizard. It would seem they are perhaps related.”
“Well said,” agreed the Doormaster. “I too place little faith in coincidences.” His eyes twinkled as he looked pointedly at Willow. “I was a young man when last this dale was visited by a high elf from Underhill.”
Mica jerked forward in his seat, his eyes wide. Before he could say anything Willow bowed with a graceful sweep of her arm.
“Truly I am from Underhill, but how do you know of my station and birth?”
“Where else but Underhill do they wear boots with turned up toes and vests with collars so broad?” His smile grew wide. “And who but a high elf would have such a bow as the one you used to help save our lives?”
“Right you are. And right again, station and birth,” she said. “Forgive me for not announcing my station earlier.”
Reaching out to Mica with her eyes she continued in a lower voice. “It was such a delight to be free of the chains of pomp and pageantry. I was having such a wonderful time being just a girl, not the king's third cousin once removed.”
Reluctantly she turned back to the Doormaster. “And for the third time, right you are. It is no coincidence that I am out from Underhill wandering abroad. My king has learned of goblins carrying magic swords, and of them raiding in larger groups. There is little need to explain why large groups of well armed goblins is something my king wishes to abolish. He has been sending out agents of the crown to discover who is supplying these magical arms so it can be stopped.”
She cast her eyes around the table looking at each in turn. “As you might guess the hunt my king has set for me will be all the harder if my quarry knows who the hunter is. So if you wish my success, please let me be known only as Willow.”
“Willow it is then,” said the Doormaster and everyone nodded. He pushed his chair back and gently touched his leg where the bandage started. “Well I think our talk has made some things clearer but some may be even more puzzling. We know how the attack was started and even though we can’t put a face or name to the dark wizard, we know who. But as to the why, I have no thoughts.” He placed both hands on the table and pushed himself up. “It would seem that this puzzle will have to wait until more pieces have been found. Perhaps a rest will improve our thinking.”
Hodekin started to get up to help him but the Doormaster waved him off. “Settle back. I can find my own bed easy enough. This leg just needs a little rest now.”
Liam watched his master's slow progress as he limped down the hall and entered his room. A chill crept over him as he realized how close he had come to losing him.
He turned back to his friends and lowered his voice so it would not carry down the hall. “I don’t know who this dark wizard is or why he attacked the master, but we must not be caught off guard again. One of us must be with him at all times, ready to call for help if it is needed.”
Hodekin nodded in agreement. “I will make sure he is not alone.”
Liam looked at the determined little Kobold. “This will take more than just one person. Even with your magic to hide you, you must sleep sometime.”
Hodekin winked and nodded in the direction of the potion room. “My cousin Tommy Understair will help. No harm will come to the master while he is in this house.”
Liam smiled as he realized that the Doormaster had been right. Hodekin and the tommyknockers were related.
Mica cast a puzzled look first at Hodekin then at Liam. Before he could speak, Liam broke in.
“Don’t worry, Mica. If he can get his cousin’s help I’m sure the master will be safe.”
It was clear that Hodekin didn’t want to spoil the secret of the tommyknockers living in the potion room. For now Liam would help him keep it.
Willow nodded in agreement. “A fine start, but we must go further. We must discover who is behind the attack and press the battle to them.”
Mica turned to Willow. There was no hint of his usual smile and his voice was low. “So how pray tell would a king’s agent perform that little trick?”
Willow avoided his gaze. “If you think less of me for not being more forth coming about birth and station, please consider how first we met.” She raised her head and their eyes met. “Two boys, at night, in the middle of the wood dressed only in a torn blanket. Not exactly the kind of people you trust with secrets.”
Mica's face softened and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Looking at it from where you’re standing I admit you’ve had reason and more to be wary. Sadly my tongue is oft times sharper than my wit.”
Willow's eyes brightened. Mica gave her a lopsided grin.
Seconds passed and finally Liam cleared his throat. “That still leaves the problem of finding the wizard.”
Willow smiled at Mica and raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps there are still clues to be found in the spell room.”
Liam lagged behind the others as they headed down the stairs. He hesitated at the top step, remembering the battle and the dead goblin lying on the floor. Mica and Willow had already reached the bottom. Their voices were muffled as they split up and began working their way to the back of the room.
Liam's stomach soured but he forced himself to go down. He tried to focus on his friends, but the floor held his gaze. His eyes turned to the spot where the goblin had fallen. The floor was empty. No goblin. No sign of a struggle. Just a clean floor and the faint smell of soap.
A slight cough jerked his attention away and he turned to see a smiling Hodekin. “The Village Master sent someone over. They took away the goblin, even scrubbed the floor. He’s probably buried by now.”
Liam closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.
Hodekin looked across the room. Willow and Mica were busy sorting through bits of charred wood. The Kobold nodded towards the potion room door. “Now might be a good time for me to visit my cousins,” he said.
Liam fished the key out from his robes and stepped
into the shadows under the stair. There was a soft click as he turned the key in the lock. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asked as he swung it open.
Hodekin stepped through the door. “My cousins are small and very shy. It may be hard for even me to contact them. If we want their help we must keep their secrets. No one must know.”
Liam glanced across the room to where his friends were still searching.
Hodekin followed his gaze. “No one,” he repeated.
Liam started to protest, but the firm look on Hodekin's face told him it would do no good. He needed the tommyknockers help to keep his master safe. There was no choice. “Okay. But if I don’t go with you, how will you get back? I can’t leave the door unlocked, and if the master sends me for potions I will need the key.”
Hodekin gave a low chuckle and a wave of his hand. “I never heard of a lock that could keep a tommyknocker out.” He turned and started down the aisle. “If I don’t show up for breakfast then come and check this door. If they think I betrayed their secret they will refuse to help.”
Liam watched him disappear around the corner. Before he could change his mind he quickly closed and locked the door. Doubt nagged at him, but he had no better plan. Tucking the key back inside his robe he went to join his friends.
He found them on the far side of the room. Willow was busy arranging pieces of wood on the floor as Mica handed them to her. Even though the wood was badly splintered and burned they had pieced together most of a rectangle. Near the top the black smudges looked like paint. Liam was still trying to figure it out when Mica walked up with another piece.
“Here is one with red markings,” Mica said as he handed it to Willow.
She turned the piece around in her hands trying to see how it might fit. Liam was good with puzzles, but the edges on this piece were charred and split and he couldn’t guess how it might fit.
Willow held it toward the fire globe and examined it. “Ah, this is how the tree grew.” She set it on the floor and aligned the wood grain with the other boards. Then she sat back on her heels and studied the result. Fire had blackened the door and some pieces were missing altogether, but it was clearly the top of the crate.
Something tugged at Liam’s thoughts, like a kitten on a string. The crate looked vaguely familiar but he knew that couldn’t be true. He was on the road when it was delivered, and during the fight it was too dark to see much of anything. But he couldn't shake the thought. He walked around to the side.
The wizard knew what he was doing when he threw the fire globe through the magic door and severed the link. The blast of escaping magic shattered both the globe and the door, scorching the wood. He kneeled down to study the door. Soot smudged the boards, but he was sure something had been painted near the top.
He leaned closer. His leg muscles tightened with the strain, but he couldn't use his hands for balance without disturbing the pieces.
His face hovered just inches above the painted red spot. It stared back. He looked over his shoulder. “It looks like an eye,” he said. His knee slipped and sent him sprawling. Pieces flew in all directions as he landed in the middle of the assembled boards.
“Hoy! What are you playing at?” Mica exclaimed. “Did you think we pieced this together for you to dive into?”
Liam levered himself up as carefully as he could, trying not to make the mess any worse. The rough wood scratched his cheek.
“Are you hurt?” Willow asked. Her eyes twinkled as she tried hard to hide her smile behind her hand.
The memory of when he first saw Belinda returned in a rush. He felt the embarrassment all over again. “This crate!” He sat up smiling and tried to dust the soot off his robe, but his dirty hands just smeared it around. “I’ve seen this crate before,” he said proudly. “It was in the castle when I tested the door.”
“Are you sure?” asked Willow. “There must be many crates like this in the castle.”
Liam looked down at what was left of the crate. Soot blurred the black outlines of the boar's head, but the red eye still stared back at him. He was sure it was the same crate. “Yes, it was in the delivery pit at the castle.”
“Willow has it right,” said Mica. “There's nothing special about this crate.” He folded his arms and scowled.
Liam bristled. He remembered how hard Mica had laughed when he told him about falling over the crate. He wasn't ready to share with Willow how clumsy he had been. He stood up and pointed to the jumble of boards on the floor. “Believe what you will. I saw this crate in the castle.”
No one said anything. Liam looked from Mica to Willow. “Fine then,” he said. “I need to change my robe and check on the master.” Liam tramped back upstairs in a black temper. After all they'd been through, how could they not believe him?
When he reached the kitchen he slowed his pace and tried to let the anger and disappointment drain out. He didn’t want to trouble his master. Quietly he climbed the back stairs and paused to listen at his master’s closed door. All was silent. Liam hoped he was resting. He crept down the hall to his room.
His bed was still rumpled from last night. He ignored it and headed for the table where a water pitcher and bowl had been set out. Scrubbing his face he caught a glimpse of white in the mirror. Water dripped from his chin as he stared at the bandage on his head.
Wiping his face with a towel, he cocked his head sideways, trying to see where the wizard had hit him. There wasn't any blood but he decided to leave the bandage on anyway.
He pulled off his soiled robe and tossed it over a chair. From the chest at the foot of the bed he pulled out a clean robe and yanked it over his head.
He plopped down on the bed regretting his actions. Mica's words still stung, but he wished he hadn't stomped out. Looking down at the small table near the bed he saw the shell. With all the excitement he had missed talking to Belinda last night. She wouldn’t be expecting him until after supper but he needed someone to talk to. Without much hope he placed the shell behind his ear and softly whistled the three notes.
Instantly he heard a whispered reply. “Liam, is that you?”
“Yes,” he said a little too loudly, “it’s me. With a little leap for joy he quickly moved to close his door. “I’m so glad you were wearing your shell.”
“I’ve been wearing it since last night,” she said still whispering, “and whistling until I think my lips may chap.”
“Where are you?” Liam asked. “Why are you whispering?” Concern dampened his enthusiasm.
“Where I’m required to be of course, with the princess. She is sleeping so I’m trying not to wake her. The more important question is where have you been? Have you made it home safely?”
Liam could hear the worry in her voice and felt guilty. Last evening was the first night they hadn't talked. “Everything is fine,” he assured her. “There was a little trouble when we got home last night but everyone is going to be fine.”
Once Belinda heard the word trouble she insisted on hearing the whole story. Liam lay back on his bed and told her about the fight in the spell room and how the goblins and the black wizard used the phony crate as a door.
He hesitated, remembering Mica and Willow's reaction to his story. Then the words rushed out. “I saw that same crate when I was in the castle,”
“The one someone left where it would be easy to trip over?”
There was no hint of laughter or disbelief in her voice and Liam forgot all about Mica and Willow.
Her voice trembled slightly as she said, “Goblins and a wizard attacking your master in his own home, and it seems the crate they used must have passed through the castle. There is a mystery here. Someone must have used the magic doors in the delivery pit to move the crate before it was spelled.”
“But doesn’t someone track the movement of goods passing through the castle?” asked Liam.
“Oh, records are kept, but perhaps someone in the right position could make an item go unnoticed. I can’t go to the king with accusations a
nd no proof.” Belinda paused and Liam could almost hear her thinking.
“The king did mention I should familiarize myself with the workings of the castle so when Princess Jenna is older I will be able to answer her questions. Perhaps I should spend some time learning about shipping goods.”
“Belinda that’s dangerous,” warned Liam. “Whoever is behind this is murdering people.”
“I’ll be careful,” said Belinda. “Besides no one would suspect the princess’ handmaiden.”
“Maybe you shouldn't...”
“Oh, the princess is waking from her nap,” she interrupted. “I must go. Farewell for now.” And she was gone.
Liam reached back and removed the shell with a sigh. Everyone he cared about was in danger. He got up and placed the shell back on the table. Maybe he could talk some sense into her tonight.
Liam paced back and forth across the room. Black thoughts rumbled through his mind like storm clouds. Someone needed to find whoever was causing all this trouble and put a stop to it. He went looking for his friends.
Down the hall his master's door was open and he was sitting at his desk. Looking up as Liam passed, the Doormaster called. “Ah, there you are lad. Come sit with me.” He motioned to an empty chair.
Liam was anxious to see his friends, but he took the offered seat. He glanced around the room wondering if Hodekin was back yet. He had no idea how long it might take to convince the tommyknockers to help.
He fidgeted while his master took his time readjusting the cushion beneath his injured leg. The rose tinted reading spectacles had slipped down his nose, catching the sunlight and adding color to his cheeks. “With all the excitement I missed the tale of your excursion to Yellow Finger Lake. Since it was your first I must hear it all.”
Liam immediately remembered the dryad’s grove. Embarrassment gripped him and he cast his eyes down at his hands.
“Come now lad,” encouraged the Doormaster. “The tale must be worth the telling. The door is hung, the payment has been made and everyone survived the trip. All that is left is the telling. So…start at the beginning.”
Liam looked up into the Doormaster’s beaming face. Taking a deep breath he started talking. He tried to skip over the embarrassing parts but the Doormaster’s interest and perceptive questions encouraged him. Soon the whole story had been told, from their encounter with the dryads to his trip through the potion room with Drindle.
When the tale was through the Doormaster became very serious. Leaning forward he clasped Liam’s hands and gazed intently at him over his tinted spectacles. “Lad, you faced harsh challenges with true courage. I’m proud of you. I had no idea that the goblins were raiding on the King’s Highway or were banding with wizards. You and your friends deserve high praise indeed.”
“Thank you sir,” said Liam. “That is very kind of you to say.” He remembered how he felt when the goblins had stolen Little Smoky and the door. “But I think if my judgment would have been better, my challenges would have been fewer.”
A fit of laughter gripped the Doormaster and pushed him back in his chair. “Again you show wisdom beyond your years. The same can be said for any man.” Pointing his finger at Liam he said, “Remember this next time some hero is relating his tale of dashing do…bad decisions make good stories.”
Liam smiled and tried to change the subject. “Speaking of stories perhaps you could tell how you met the baker Drindle?”
“Ah, Drindle…now there is a tale worth the telling.” The Doormaster leaned back and smiled. “But it will have to wait for another day. For the tale is long, and I’ll not spoil it by rushing through it.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “In fact I think it best if we wait until after you have made the map he asked for. Then together we could all sit and you could hear it told properly over a cup of chilled cider.”
“I could make it right away,” said Liam, “but how will he be able to open our door without a key?”
“An excellent question lad, excellent indeed. The answer is that he has one. No doubt you noticed how similar his door is to the potion room door?”
Liam slowly nodded and the Doormaster continued. “At one time the doors must have been part of a set. They both use the same key.”
Liam thought about all the doors in the potion room, many of which were locked. “But Sir, how many other keys will unlock the door under the stair?”
“The potion room is very, very old,” said the Doormaster. “I have reason to believe the doors that Drindle and I use have been around for ages. Perhaps even from the beginning. I have heard rumors of other doors like ours, but they have proved impossible to track. Those who possess a door linked to the riches of the storeroom keep it secret or risk losing it. When Drindle and I were young, I came across a scrap of parchment that listed the location of several doors. It took us a number of years to explore the places mentioned on the scroll. We only uncovered two of the doors. Since I had only a partial list, I have no way of knowing how many doors might have been in the original set.”
“Then there is no way of telling how many others might have a key to your door?” asked Liam in a shaken voice. After the goblin attack he was sure that having strangers in the spell room was a bad idea.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be too concerned,” said the Doormaster. “Even if someone had a key it would take them some time to find our door. They would have to try it in a lot of different locks, and I’m sure the tommyknockers wouldn’t put up with that kind of shenanigans.”
“Well, I suppose you're right,” Liam agreed reluctantly.
“Of course I am,” said the Doormaster. “Don’t let this goblin business shake you. Jumping at shadows simply won’t do. With the help of your friends we thumped them one and all. Sent the lot running.” His eyebrows arched above his spectacles and he shook his fist in the air. “If something comes here looking for trouble, by thunder they will find it.”
Liam smiled at the old man's enthusiasm. “Right you are!” he said getting to his feet. He suddenly felt the need to be up and doing something useful. “With your leave I will go now to make Drindle his map.”
The Doormaster beamed. “First-rate idea. Once you give him the map, invite him to tea. Oh, and be sure to tell him I said he should bring the cake and crumpets. He never cared for mine.”
“Yes sir, I will,” said Liam.
As he turned into the hall he heard his master chuckle to himself. “It will be good indeed to see that old stork again.”
Talking with the Doormaster lightened Liam’s mood. He could hardly wait to unite the two old friends. He skipped down the stairs two at a time, bounded down the hall, and bounced into the kitchen. Seeing his friends sitting at the table brought him skidding to a halt. It was clear by the way they looked up that they had been discussing something important.
“What’s up?” asked Liam. “You’re not still mad at me for falling on the crate are you?”
Mica pulled his face into a fake scowl. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and placed his hand over his heart. “If’en I were to get mad every time you got clumsy I would never smile again.”
Willow made a show of kicking Mica under the table. “Pay no heed to the addled mind,” she said. The laughter in her voice sounded like tiny bells. “Your fall was an accident. No one here holds a grudge. Come join us, we wish your counsel.”
Liam smirked at Mica and plopped down beside Willow, feeling very pleased she was taking his side. On the table next to Mica was a small glass bottle filled with a strange green substance.
“Hey, what’s this?” Liam said reaching across the table.
Quick as a cat Willow pinned his arm to the table. “Have care, the bottle holds death.”
Liam slowly drew back his arm, looking first at Willow and then at Mica.
Mica nodded. “She has the right of it. We scraped that slime off the poisoned sword.”
Liam gaped at the bottle. Just a shallow wound with that sword had killed the goblin in the spell room. “Why would you
want to do that?” he asked.
“I require a sample for my king,” said Willow. “Perhaps someone at court will be able to shed some light on its origin.”
Liam looked at the small vial. “Why not just take the sword?” asked Liam.
“We’ll be leaving the sword with you, hero,” said Mica. His voice took on a serious tone. “It might be handy to have if that wizard and his cronies decide to have another go at your master.”
Liam’s mind raced ahead and he thought about having to fight off wizards and goblins by himself. A chill passed over him.
Willow placed a hand on his shoulder. “Be at ease...Mica will stay with you until I return.” She fixed her gaze on Mica. “Is that not true?”
Suddenly it became clear to Liam what his friends had been discussing when he had barged in. “No!” said Liam. “Please, take Mica with you. The woods stink with goblins. They are crawling from their holes like worms after a rain.” He couldn’t bear the thought of Willow in the woods alone. “The master and I will be fine. The scum that attacked us are still licking their wounds. Besides, I won’t be alone. Hodekin and his cousins will be here.”
Willow studied Liam’s face. “You are quite sure…?”
Liam nodded.
With a loud scrape Mica pushed his chair back from the table and quickly stood. “We're agreed then. Gather your kit Willow. If we leave now most of the day is still ahead of us. The quicker gone the quicker back.”
Once the decision was made it took very little time to prepare. Mica and Willow were both used to traveling light. Soon they were standing in the doorway with bows and slim packs.
Mica swung his pack in a short arc, hitting Liam in the shoulder. “Keep your guard up,” he said. “And if you do see any goblins try to remember…the pointy end of the sword goes towards them.”
Liam gave his friends a weak smile. He knew they would be facing much worse danger than he. “I’ll remember,” he said. “Just watch out for each other and…hurry back.” From the corner of his eye he caught a faint shimmer from the coat tree by the door. With a wink and a slight nod he continued in a louder voice. “While you’re gone all I’ll have is Hodekin, and you know how boring that can be.”
With a POP, the coat tree disappeared and there stood Hodekin, his face the same color as his bright red vest. “Boring am I?” Whipping off his hat he angrily brushed it briskly against his bright blue sleeve to remove an imagined speck of dust. With great care he placed it back on his head and cocked it to the side with the tip of his finger. Standing very straight, he tilted his head back and stared down his nose at Liam. “Is that how you talk about me behind my back?”
Everyone started to laugh. The more they laughed the redder Hodekin became. Crossing his arms tightly across his chest he began tapping the floor angrily with his foot. He looked ready to explode when Liam finally took pity on him.
“Easy now, it was all in fun,” Liam said. “No one thinks you’re boring.”
“He’s right, we were just poking fun at you,” said Mica, still grinning. “He knew you were there all along.”
Hodekin’s foot stopped its tapping and he uncrossed his arms. “This was just a joke then?” he asked, still not totally convinced.
“Caught at your own game,” said Willow. “Take this for a lesson. Spying on your friends is a road to sorrow.”
“But I was only watching the door, guarding the master,” offered Hodekin lamely.
Mica laughed. “Did you imagine the goblins were going to sneak past us while we were standing in the doorway?”
Hodekin’s shoulders slumped. “Right you are. You have me square,” he admitted. “I was watching the door but I should not have been watching you.”
Liam smiled at Hodekin, “It's okay, and we’re still friends. Just let us know when you’re around.”
“That I can do!” said Hodekin, his eyes all a twinkle, and off he went down the hall.
“I am no sage but I see more than a few surprises in your future,” laughed Willow. “I hope he tires of the game of letting his new friends know when he is around before we get back. Stay watchful my friend, and not just for Hodekin. We should return in about a week.”
With a wave they were out the door and down the street. Liam watched until they turned the corner before closing the door.
The Doormaster's Apprentice Page 10