“Not now, Duke,” she said, using my first name for the first time. “Buy me a drink first.”
Sitting in the tavern a short time later, Lilly downed a flagon of wine and motioned for the serving girl to bring another. I nursed my ale, waiting for her to talk. When she finished the second, and ordered a third, she sighed.
“Want to tell me what that was all about now?” I asked.
“It wasn’t a ghost, Duke. I already told you that. This was something totally different. Something I’ve never even heard of, and something very sad.”
I took a sip of my ale. “Then what was it?”
She took another drink.
“It was someone unborn. Someone who felt he should have been. More than that, he was never even conceived. An unborn child would still have been alive, in a sense. This though, was never even in the womb. His would- be parents talked of having a child, but then changed their minds, and didn’t. He was the child they would have had.”
I took another sip while I tried to make sense of that.
“Wait a minute,” I finally said. “How is that even possible? How is such a thing even alive?”
“That’s the point. It wasn’t alive, ever. It wasn’t undead either. It never had life, but it was trying to take it from others. It was taking the last minutes from those that were going to die anyway, which is why you kept running into it. The old man on Silver Tree Road was the first one and was about to be run down by a runaway carriage. The goblin was second, and then it pegged you as a bringer of death. It decided to follow you, in a way. With that old orc, it took the first life that was almost over that it came to. From there, well, you know the rest.”
“Would it have worked?” I asked. “Could it have come alive like that?”
She shrugged.
“I doubt it, but I’m not positive. If it did, it would have been a strange and lonely life. It would never have had all the memories and development that the rest of us get. I’m not sure if it would have even survived.”
I sat pondering and drinking my ale, a little faster now.
“So where did you send it?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know where it came from, or how, but I hope that it’s content to wait now.”
She finished her wine and got to her feet, a little unsteadily.
“See you around, Grandfather,” she said, and left me sitting there.
There was nothing else for me to do but order another ale for myself.
INTERLUDE 2
When Duke finished his story, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His grandson set his stylus down.
“Wow. I didn’t even know something like that was possible.”
The old man opened his eyes and looked at his grandson.
“Neither did I. Nor your grandmother. We never saw anything like it again, and your grandmother never came across it in her research either. It was something unique, and something very sad.”
“But,” the young man said, smiling, “you met Grandmother though.”
“There is that. There can be good in almost anything.”
They sat silent for few moments and then Duke cleared his throat.
“Well, why don’t you come back again tomorrow, and I’ll tell you another.”
“You know Granddad, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re spacing these stories out so that I’ll come see you every day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Duke sniffed. “It’s an imposition. But you’re family and I don’t want your mother angry with me. She has your grandmother’s temper.”
“If you say so, Granddad.”
“I do say so. I’m an old man and I tire easily. You’ll get your stories, as I see fit to dole them out. Now get. I’ve got a nap to take.”
With that, he leaned back and closed his eyes again. He didn’t open them until after his grandson kissed him, said goodbye to his grandmother, and left.
When he did open them, it was to find his wife sitting across from him.
“Perceptive young man,” she said.
“Very. Too smart for his own good.”
They both smiled.
“He’s a good boy,” she said. “What are you going to tell him tomorrow?”
“I haven’t decided if I will. Maybe I’ll tell him to go home.”
“Ha! You’ll tell him a tale and drag it out. I know you.”
“Yes, you do. We’ll see what he picks from the trophy room.”
His wife frowned at that.
“Are you sure, Duke? There’s some pretty sad stuff in there.”
“Positive, dear. I told him about one the best times, when I first met you. If he picks a sadder tale, so be it.”
The next day Duke and his grandson were in the trophy room again.
“There’s so much in here!” the young man said. “You had quite a career Granddad.”
“I did. Most of the time, if the case was interesting, I took something to remember it by. Some of the time, it was routine, and I didn’t bother. You can pick anything you’d like, and I’ll tell you the story behind it.”
His grandson looked around, and picked up a mug. It was made of pewter, and looked like any other mug that was served in any tavern in the city.
“What’s this?”
Duke took it and looked at it, his mouth drawn into a frown. He sighed, and set it back on the shelf.
“It’s what it looks like. A mug. At one time, it held ale, from a certain tavern. Blood Ale they called it, and it was excellent.”
“Sounds good,” the young man said. “What tavern, and do they still sell it?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been in there in years, and won’t go now. Come on downstairs, and I’ll tell you why.”
ROGUE
Most of the time, being a Nuisance Man is a one-person deal. You take the job, eliminate the nuisance, and move on to the next one. Or, in my case, take a few days off. Since the other Nuisance Men are after the same things, it doesn’t make sense to work with one of them. That only resulted in you getting half of the fee you would otherwise. Of course, it’s a rough business, and many are the times that the nuisance is tougher than one would think, which is the primary reason for all of the turnover in our business.
You learn early on which nuisances are good for you, all newly registered and raring to go, and which ones are best left to the big boys. As you get some experience, or as some of us have, an Ultimate Weapon, then you start going after some of the heavier hitters.
When I started, I was content to take on the smaller nuisances. At that point, a goblin could be a tough fight, and even a lone orc was simply out of the question. But I was ambitious, and determined that I would become rich enough to afford one of those big houses up on the hill, away from the teeming masses, if I worked hard enough. I was still ignoring my innate laziness then, and didn’t realize how much I’d actually have to work to make that happen.
After several months on the job, I realized that my plan to become rich was going to take significantly longer than I thought. Some goblins and kobolds still gave me a tough time, and the fees for them weren’t going to do much more than pay my current rent, if I was lucky. There must be a better way, if I could only figure out what that was.
The opportunity came one day when I went into the watchhouse to see what was posted on the Board. Sarge was behind the desk, as he always was, reading the daily newssheet.
“Hey, Sarge,” I said, as I entered.
He grunted at me without looking up. Since that time, Sarge and I have become much closer, regardless of what he might say, but at the time, he didn’t think I’d be around long enough to make it worthwhile to get to know me.
Undeterred, I went to the Board to see what I could pull for the day and earn some money. Despite the ungodly early hour of right before noon, there was actually somebody else already there. He was looking over the Board himself as I came up.
I take some pride in my appearance.
I try to stay clean, keep my clothes in good repair and try to at least give the impression of professionalism. At the time, my weapon of choice was a light sword that I wore on my left hip. I could draw it and use it quickly, and in the case of a more protracted fight, it didn’t tire my arm out so quickly.
This fellow seemed to have been watching me, and copying my style. Although not identical, his clothes were cut in much the same manner as mine, and he also wore a light sword on his left hip. The only major difference is that where I favored a dark green cloak with a hood, he wore a black, wide brimmed hat with a large feather sticking out of it. Frankly, I thought it looked ridiculous.
I studied him as I approached, and when I stood next to him, he did the same to me. I glanced at him and he nodded affably, and went back to studying the Board. For my part, I tried to ignore both him and his silly head gear, and concentrate on the Board myself. From what I saw, today was going to be a bust. The lowest level nuisance on the Board was an orc family, which meant that it wasn’t really low level. Orcs were fiercely loyal to members of their own families, and they all lived together in huge groups. The only way to eliminate an orc nuisance was to eliminate them all, which was something that I wasn’t ready to take on yet.
I sighed and turned away, resigned to the fact that my friend Jessup would be drinking alone tonight. The gent next to me must have come to the same conclusion, because he turned from the Board at the same time I did. We were walking next to each other as we exited the watchhouse.
Outside, we both paused for a moment.
“Not a good day to be a Nuisance Man,” he said.
“Nope,” I replied. “At least not unless you’re a bit further along than I am.”
“Same here,” he said, and stuck out his hand. “Adrian Gunn.”
I shook his hand.
“Duke Grandfather. And yes. That’s really my name.”
“I wasn’t going to ask,” he said with a smile. “Well. I guess it’s off to a tavern for me. Maybe tomorrow will bring better luck.”
“Enjoy,” I said gloomily.
A tavern sounded like exactly the thing I needed, but without the work there was no money. Most taverns didn’t serve ale on credit, and the few that did weren’t the type of place that I wanted to frequent. Ale that ends up costing a couple of broken kneecaps isn’t worth it.
“Hey,” he said, “why not come along? The Swordsman’s Edge is right around the corner and they make excellent blood ale. We can talk shop.”
“Love to, but the no work on the Board in there, means no money on me out here.”
He smiled again, which was a trait that I would learn came easily to Adrian.
“Not a problem. I’m flush. I’ve had a good few days leading up to now. I’ll spot you a few ales.”
Well. Turning down free ale is plain foolish and no one ever had call to claim that Mama Grandfather’s little boy was a fool, so I agreed and we proceeded to the tavern.
We sat and drank the ale, of which Adrian was spot on about the excellence of, and swapped the few stories that we had about our times as Nuisance Men. It turned out that Adrian and I had about the same amount of experience, and we were finding the same problems.
“You know,” he said after his fourth or fifth mug of ale, “I don’t see why we couldn’t take on a bigger job. You know, like a gnoll maybe. Or even an ogre.”
“You’re crazy,” I told him, draining my fifth or sixth mug to match him. “Neither one of us is ready for either of those. Gnolls are nasty and crafty, and ogres will beat you to a pulp for looking at them wrong.”
He picked up his mug. It may have been his seventh, I’m not quite sure.
“No. You’re right. Neither one of is ready for that. But what if both of us were?”
“I think you should put down that mug of blood ale,” I slurred. “You’re drunk. You just agreed that we aren’t ready.”
“No, no, no. You’re not following me. I’m not ready to kill a gnoll. And you’re not ready to kill a gnoll. But maybe we’re ready to kill one!”
I stared at him blearily. I was coming to the conclusion that I agreed to take free drinks from a madman, or possibly that the blood ale was having more of an effect on him than he wanted to admit.
“Wha?” I said.
“Listen,” he leaned in close. “What if we worked together? You know, as a team.”
I laughed.
“Crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “I knew it. We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because. Nuisance Men work alone. Everyone knows that.”
“Is it a law?”
“Well, no. Not that I know of.”
“There you go then. No more excuses. Let’s go eliminate us a gnoll nuisance!”
He lurched unsteadily to his feet, holding up his mug in a triumphant gesture.
I thought about it. Why couldn’t we work together? Just because it hadn’t been done before, to the best of my knowledge, didn’t mean that we couldn’t do it now. At this point, we could make more money by being able to take more jobs.
“Alright!” I said, jumping to my feet as well, barely having to hold on to the table. “Let’s get him!”
We looked at each other, giggled, and sat back down.
“Perhaps tomorrow would be better,” he said.
“Agreed. More ale!”
This was the start, as they say, of a beautiful friendship. Adrian and I did go after that gnoll together, and we were successful, remarkably so. He distracted it, while I went in for the kill. Maybe it was the other way around, I honestly don’t remember. The point is, it worked, and it opened up a whole new range of possible nuisances for us to pursue and eliminate.
Adrian and I worked well as a team. We grew to know what each other was thinking, and we could react to the other almost instantly. Splitting the fees worked out, because we were able to work more than either one of us would have alone, which was a fact that I frankly couldn’t believe no one thought of before.
We kept at it, and before long, we were ready to face almost any nuisance that they put on the Board. Sarge got to know us, and stopped looking so surprised when we’d return ready to take on our next adventure. It was during this time that I got my gun, and Adrian got his Ultimate Weapon.
Adrian’s weapon was a sword, which was also a huge help to a Nuisance Man. It was huge, almost comically so, but it was light as a feather, and wickedly sharp. He could swing and parry with it as easily as he could his old sword, but when he hit, it delivered horrible wounds. On his hip, it shrank down to the size of an ordinary sword, so it didn’t get tangled in his legs when he was walking around.
Between the two of us, we developed quite a reputation, and if word got out that we pulled someone from the Nuisance Board, that person was considered as good as gone. We had fun too. We tried to invent new and interesting ways to go after our bounties; like disguises, or giving them a head start. What good is working if you don’t enjoy what you do? We laughed every day that we worked, and on those that we didn’t, we laughed while sitting in the Swordsman’s Edge. Times were good.
All good things come to an end though, and this was to prove no exception.
On our last job together, we took a nuisance that seemed like any other. This one was a troll, which in and of itself, was going to be hard. Trolls are really large, incredibly strong, and ridiculously tough. They can take lots of damage and keep coming, and they heal. If you wound one and stand back, you can literally see the wound closing up and repairing itself while the troll laughs at you.
This particular one, Rockbiter, was working as a leg breaker, which is still a common job for trolls and ogres. They don’t tend to ask questions, they’re not scared of anything, and they’ll obey instructions without thought. At least, most of them will. It’s come to my attention since then that there is more to that picture than meets the eye, but at the time, it’s what I thought.
Adrian and I tracked the troll down at the scene of his
latest victim. It was carnage. The poor man lay under a table, unconscious, with his one wrist bent at an odd angle. Rockbiter stood over him, staring down, until we burst into the room. Our plan was simple, we’d come in fast and I’d shoot the troll, aiming high and hopefully put him down immediately. If I missed, or it didn’t work, Adrian would come in low, aiming for the legs. With his sword, the troll should end up on the ground, where he’d be easy to finish off. Trolls are very fast though, so we had to assume he’d come for us as soon as we came through the door. We’d have to be even faster to put him down easily, or else it was going to turn into a fight.
We burst through the door, Adrian following me, my gun already coming up to aim for his head, but instead of coming after me, the troll simply looked up, then back down to his victim. By that time, I already pulled the trigger and the metal ball took him in the cheek. It sheared through, taking teeth with it, but leaving him alive. Adrian flew in behind me, sliding along the floor and swept that enormous sword across the troll’s shins. It sliced clean through and the troll crashed to floor. It worked exactly as we planned.
Now that he was down, it was a simple matter to end the nuisance for good. We stood over him, and I raised the gun to fire again, but hesitated. The troll wasn’t looking at us. Instead, he lay there, still looking at his victim who was beginning to stir. That was odd, but a job is a job, so I pulled the trigger again. This time, my aim was better, and the metal ball went into his brain and did its job.
When I looked at Adrian, he was staring at the dead troll with an odd expression on his face.
“You okay?” I asked him.
He shook himself, like he was coming out of a day dream or something.
“Yeah, sure.”
I wasn’t so sure. He still had a weird look on his face as he wiped his sword off, almost as if he were loath to touch it.
Later on, we sat at our usual table in the Swordsman’s Edge, drinking away some of the fee that we earned for removing the troll. I was in fine spirits. We were flush with money, we were young, and the night was just getting started. I was putting away the blood ale, and eyeing up the serving girl. Adrian was nursing his ale, and sat quietly, mostly staring at the table.
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 6
