“Make sure someone sees this,” I said to the watchmen. “I think that’s the real evil.”
“Sure, kid, whatever,” one of them said, and now they did move away, my moment of being one of the boys over.
A day later and the same two watchmen came to get me. I didn’t argue or try to resist. But it was to the good, anyway. Again, Sarge wanted to see me.
“You doing okay?” he asked me.
“Yeah, but you could have sent a messenger. Those kids are all over the place.”
“I know. But I wanted to see for myself.”
“You’ve seen. I’m going now.”
“The Board is back up.”
I glanced over at it and then away. “Yeah, so I see.”
“Not going to work yet?”
I shrugged, then shook my head. No, I wasn’t. Not today, maybe not for a long time.
Sarge didn’t say anything for a moment, then, “You did good, Duke. I know this one sucked, and there was no fee in it for you. And some of the guys…well, you’re not Watch, so they think you interfered.”
Of course, they did.
“But I don’t.” Sarge continued. “I know what you did, and I know you didn’t have to. That’s the other reason I wanted you to come here.”
He stuck out his big hand, and waited. There was no guile on his face, no sarcasm. I took his hand and shook it.
“Thanks,” he said. “I won’t forget what you did.”
“You’re welcome.” My reply felt strangely formal, but it seemed fitting.
I took my leave, still down about the whole thing, but with a slight hint of my old, more familiar swagger in my steps. No, I wasn’t ready to take a notice off the Board. Not today anyway.
Tomorrow, though. Well, who knew what tomorrow would bring?
LET’S GO HOME
“If I ever thought about it, I would have guessed that you had something to do with that mess,” Lilly said.
Duke didn’t smile. “It was a mess. But I didn’t really have anything to do with it. More that I was in the right place at the right time.”
“Kind of made your career out of that, didn’t you?” Lilly said, but her eyes were bright.
“I guess I did. It’s all part of my skill, you know. Using my natural charm to attract friends.”
Lilly laughed softly and finished her wine. “Let’s go home,” she said. “I’ve got things to do this afternoon.”
The two stood up and waited for their grandson, but he seemed distracted by something across the room. Duke followed his gaze and saw that the young man was watching their serving girl.
“Are you coming?” he finally asked.
“Hmm? What? Oh. Uh, no. Actually, I’m a little thirsty, still.”
Duke glanced at Lilly and smiled again. “We’ll see you later, then. How about dinner tomorrow night? We’re having boiled lung-fish with sour crab-apple sauce.”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” the young man said.
“For dessert, I’m making a spider-roach cake. The trick is to get the young ones so that it stays moist,” Lilly added.
“Uh huh. That sounds….wait, what?”
Duke and Lilly burst into laughter while the young man’s face grew red.
“We’ll see you tomorrow evening,” Lilly said, bending down to kiss his cheek.
Duke clapped him on the shoulder. “Have fun, but not too much.”
The next evening, the young man came in to the house, a bemused smile on his face.
“Good evening, Granddad!”
“What’s got you so chipper?” Duke asked. “As if I didn’t know.”
“Nothing. Life. It’s pretty great, you know?”
Duke coughed, and took the mug of ale that Lilly brought him before she settled into her own chair.
“It can be,” he replied. “Sometimes when you least expect it.”
“Sounds like the start of the next story,” Lilly said.
Duke took a sip of his ale, set it on the table next to him, and started to speak.
THE SCULPTURES
The city settled down after the Hidden Knife was captured. The newssheets were full of tales of the brave watchmen who collared him and took him off the streets. I chuckled when I read them, but honestly, I was glad. I still thought that some of them were awfully lazy, and a few down-right corrupt, but I respected the Watch and the job that they did. It was nice that they got some recognition.
As for me, going to the watchhouse was a new experience. Not only did Sarge no longer ignore me, but he actually spoke to me like a real human being, someone worthy of at least a few seconds of his time. And I was determined that I wasn’t going to do anything to spoil that. Consequently, that meant I didn’t go in as much. Less opportunity for me to say something stupid and ruin everything that way.
But I still went in, and took nuisances from the Board, and continued to hone my skills. I was becoming quite the Nuisance Man, if I do say so myself. Of course, the fact that I was one of the only ones around might have had something to do with that. I made an effort to hunt down MM, but the word I got was that he had left the city. I imagined that he went back to the mountains that he truly called home.
I shuddered at that. Being away from the city was bad enough, but why add snow and steep rocky slopes to the mix? There was no accounting for what passed as comfort for some people.
It was while I was standing in front of the Board, considering what I should pull off it when a thought occurred to me. At first, it was a nothing more than a back-ground annoyance. One of those ideas that pop up in your mind, you dismiss it, and then it returns, over and over. These days, I was never sure if such a thought was really my own or not, but in this case, I was pretty sure that it was.
No matter how much I looked over the notices, I couldn’t concentrate on them. Usually, my routine was to check them, read the ones that interested me the most, and then take the one that spurred the beginning of an idea for how to complete the job. Today, none of them did.
Finally, I turned away and walked toward the door.
“Nothing?” Sarge asked. “There’s some good stuff up there. Did you see the Salamander? Great money, as long as you don’t get too charred taking it on.”
“Yeah, I saw it, and considered it. I think I even know how to handle it…”
“But?”
“But I think I have something else to do first.”
Sarge nodded. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it has nothing to do with a seedy bar and several mugs of ale.”
I glanced at him, but he was reading his newssheet again. I wasn’t sure, but there could have been the hint of a grin playing about his lips.
“While that does sound good,” I said, refusing to rise to the bait, “it’s actually more important than that. Save that Salamander for me.”
I rapped my knuckles, and headed out.
It wasn’t too much longer before I was back in the Stews, standing in front of the house that the Floating Eye had made into its headquarters. That was the last place I saw Wulfonson, maybe I could pick up his trail from there.
I already tried my usual method of locating him, simply wandering around the streets and alleys until something happened that made me look bad just as he arrived. But this time, it failed, and not only did nothing untoward happen, but I never saw any sign of the giant orc.
So, here I was, and wouldn’t you know it, here he was too.
Wulfonson hadn’t moved on. On the contrary, he had moved in. And more than that, if I didn’t know better, I would have said that he was running some sort of charity.
There was a long line of people, of all races, leading from the closed front door to the street. Orcs, goblins, dwarves, bugbears and even some humans stood waiting. They eyed each other warily, especially the humans, but no one stepped out of line, or caused any sort of trouble.
Every so often, the door would open, and someone would come out, wearing expressions that ranged from relieved to down-right joyous. And every
time the door opened, it was Wulfonson who let the person out, and beckoned the next one in.
How big a hoard did the Floating Eye leave behind that Wulfonson was still doing this, several days later? It didn’t seem like it was so much that it would take this long to give it all back. What then, was he doing?
The next time he opened the door, I stepped up, ignoring the muttering of those in line already.
“What do you want?” he grumbled.
I studied the huge orc standing before me. The one who once knocked me into a wall with a mere slap and who could take my head off with a casual swing of his warhammer.
“I want to help,” I replied, surprising myself, and by the look on his face, Wulfonson as well.
He glared at me for a moment, then stepped aside and motioned me in, his little dog dancing back from his heels. After I crossed the threshold, he closed the door and turned to face me.
“What do you mean, you want to help? Help with what?”
I shrugged, suddenly aware, once again, of how truly massive Wulfonson was, and how small the hallway we stood in was. Not much room to maneuver out of his way if this turned ugly.
“With whatever you’re doing here,” I told him.
“And what’s that?”
“Looks to me like you’re trying to help people.”
“People? Don’t you mean monsters?”
“No, I said what I meant.”
He glared at me for a moment more, then moved past me, almost shouldering me through the thin wall as he did. I stood and rubbed my side, watching as he and his dog disappeared into a room to the right.
After a moment, he growled, “Are you coming, or what?”
Oh, I hadn’t been sure if I was supposed to follow him or wait there.
The room was nothing special. A desk, piled high with papers and a few cloth sacks, with an old chair behind it. There was another chair placed in front of the desk, and a small fire going in the hearth. Other than that, the room was bare.
Wulfonson took the chair behind the desk and motioned me to the other one. “I’m not great with numbers,” he said, looking down at the papers in front of him.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but we needed to start somewhere. I cleared my throat. “I guess I’m not quite sure what it is that you’re doing.”
“People around here lost a lot to that Floating Eye. He was a real dirt-bag, and took everything he could. For some, it was everything they owned when they first came here to the city. I was making sure they got their stuff back, but then…”
“Word got out, and more and more starting showing up, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, and a lot of them do tell me that the Eye didn’t take anything from them, but they need help anyway.”
“I understand, but how are you doing it? Where is the extra money coming from?”
Wulfonson picked up one of the cloth sacks and let it fall back to the desktop with a clink. “Donations. A few people have come by and given me money. They tell me to use it to help people. But, I’m having a hard time keeping track of it all.”
I nodded. “I can help with that. As a matter of fact, I see a couple of things we can do.”
“Like?”
“First of all, let’s separate where you talk to people from where you keep the money. No sense in showing everyone what you have. This place is huge. We’ll set up another room where you can talk to them, and this room we’ll use as an office. Keep the money in here and start keeping records of what’s going out.”
“And you can do that?”
“I can make a start on it. I’m not saying I’m a financial genius, but we can at least get an idea of what you have to work with.”
He considered me for a minute, his brow furrowed. Then, he scowled and said, “Why?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. I saw what you were starting to do after we dealt with the Eye. My hands were full for a few days after that, but it stuck with me. I came back to ask you that same question. Why are you doing this? But you know what? It doesn’t really matter. You’re helping people, and for a little while, I’d like to do that, too.”
“I won’t have any of your Nuisance Man nonsense here.”
“There won’t be any. I’ll take a break from it for a few days. When we get things straightened out here, I’ll go back to it. Until then, this will be it.”
He grunted and stood up. “Take a look then.”
He stomped out of the room and I heard him go to the door and get the next supplicant. I watched as he walked back past the door, followed by a goblin woman, with four small kids in tow. I’ve made my feelings about goblins pretty clear, but this one had seen some hard times, and I hoped that Wulfonson would help her.
Really? What was going on with me? “Is this you causing this?” I muttered, but there was no response from inside of my own head.
I spent the day going over the papers on the desk and sorting them out. Not only was Wulfonson getting a line of the needy outside of his door, but he was getting requests for help by messenger as well. The first thing I did was to start sorting those into different piles. Ones that were obviously hoaxes or scams, like asking him to send money to get his long-lost, never-before-known-of cousin out of some sort of jam, went into one pile to be discarded.
Others that seemed legit, but not really needy, went into another pile. Things like the Society for the Betterment of the Aged Hunting Hounds Club desiring new velvet drapes for their hunting lodge. Sure, maybe they’d like them, but that wasn’t really helping the downtrodden masses type work.
Then there were the others. Those that sounded like the real deal. But it was easy enough to fake that in a letter. They’d have to be checked out in person, which would take some time. I was a little sad to see that this third pile was by far the largest.
After that, I took a quick count of the money that Wulfonson had on hand and was stunned when I realized the amount. It was a small fortune, and it was simply laying about the room almost haphazardly. Anyone who came in, whether through the door, a window, or down the chimney, could walk out of here loaded. It was temptation enough to make almost anyone forget their better nature.
Of course, the fact that Wulfonson was guarding the money was probably enough to keep anyone with two braincells to rub together honest, but still, we needed a more secure method of holding it.
While I was working, Wulfonson came into the room three times, and took money from the sacks. He didn’t say anything to me, simply took some, walked back out and a few moments later would pass by the doorway again, somebody happily trailing behind, and the dog trotting behind them, tongue lolling out.
When he came in the next time, I stopped him.
“Hold on,” I said. “How much are you giving?”
“Fourteen rubles,” he replied.
“For what?”
“Because he needs it.”
“But we should start keeping track.”
“Keeping track of what?”
“Well, to begin with,” I said, “are you for sure that this person hasn’t been here before?”
“Why would someone do that?”
If he was serious, I had severely misjudged Wulfonson’s worldly experiences.
“Because you’re giving out money,” I said. “People will do all sorts of underhanded things if they think they can get away with it. Look, this is what we’ll do. After you’ve spoken to them, you send them to me. Tell me what you want to give them. I’ll hand it out and make a record of it. That way, we’ll keep track of who’s been getting money, for what and how much. Then, we can see how long the money you have on hand will last.”
“Sounds like a pain in the rear,” he growled.
“Maybe. But you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll take care of that end.”
“And I should trust you?”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to. This is your deal. I wanted to help, but if you don’t want me to…” I stood up.
“No, wait.” He
held up his hand to stop me. “We’ll try it your way.”
I searched around the desk for a tablet and stylus. “Send them in.”
I smiled at him. I took the scowl he wore as he left as a good sign. We were going to be great friends, I could tell.
It went on like that for the next few days. I finished organizing everything and even put together a neat little system to keep track of who received money and for what. As the list grew, I even started seeing patterns, recognizing that food for a family of five goblins would cost so much, while that same amount would barely feed two humans. When you added in all the other races, and all the needs, it got complicated fast.
I looked up at one point when I heard Wulfonson’s dog yipping excitedly. He was bouncing around and a moment later a young goblin appeared, playing with him. He was followed by three siblings and then their mother. I remembered her from my first day there, and was sorry to see her back so soon.
There was a good chance that she was scamming Wulfonson, and using her children to help her do it. Well, that wasn’t going to work anymore. Not while I was there.
I rose from my chair, puffed out my chest and walked to what we dubbed the Interview Room, which was really a large room with a couple of old couches and chairs, where Wulfonson would talk to those who came for aid before sending them to me.
Ah, yes, sure enough. The goblin was sitting on the edge of a sofa, her short legs dangling and her long nose buried in her hands. She was sobbing and her children were all gathered around and hugging her or patting her gently, trying to console her. Wulfonson’s dog sat on the floor, staring silently up at her.
Wulfonson himself sat bolt upright in his chair, his face a thunderstorm. I saw that expression before, right before he adopted a new pet, and it didn’t bode well. I needed to get her out of there. While I had no love for goblins, I didn’t want to see one get splattered against the wall in front of her kids.
“Don’t!” I cried, when I saw Wulfonson move.
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 70
