I resented that. A lot of people would do something that stupid.
When he got himself under control, he wiped his eyes. “Whew. Well, that’s better, I guess. For a minute there, I thought this place was going be crawling with orcs now.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“You’re the second one in two days to come in here. The first one, a short, skinny little guy…” He stopped and looked at me more closely. “Oh, no. That’s not good,” he said quietly.
“What?”
In answer, he pointed at the Board. “The other one put a notice up.”
I ran over and, sure enough, there it was. It was me, or the me I was now. And the reward was a lot! A real lot! Every Nuisance Man in the city was going to want in. I crumpled the notice in my fist and turned to Sarge.
“Don’t panic,” he told me. “No one has been in yet. Guess that’s the one good thing about all the real Nuisance Men being gone right now.” I decided to let that pass. “Give me the notice, and we’ll get you upstairs and checked out.”
I didn’t have much hope. If the unicorn couldn’t do it, I was pretty sure neither could a human wizard. On the plus side, they told me to stay off my feet and get plenty of rest. At least I had an official reason to be lazy.
“Don’t worry,” Sarge told me. “We’ll keep at it.”
I rapped my knuckles on the counter and left. Even that sounded different.
No-one notices a despondent orc. That was a fact that was driven home as I walked along, kicking at the occasional loose pebble. Of course, this being Capital City, no one really paid much attention to anyone else unless they needed to, or there was some sort of amusement at hand.
I wasn’t even paying much attention to where I was going. I did some of my best thinking by walking along, letting the sounds, sights, and smells of the city wash over me, and letting my mind wander where it would. At least, that worked for me when I was human, I wasn’t sure if it would as an orc. But my mind was still my own, even if I was sharing it with some mysterious voice, so my methods remained the same.
What to do? Where to go? The Watch wizards didn’t have an answer and the unicorn simply stared at me and then pranced away. I searched for Dr. Visage, but he was no longer at the store that Jessup led me to and I had no idea where he would be. My magical resources, such as they were, were used up, all to no avail.
At first, I wasn’t sure what the noise I heard was. It was a quick buzz, not inside my head, coupled with a slight whoosh of air. I felt a sting to one of my ears and yelped. It didn’t hurt that bad, but it was unexpected.
The quarrel vibrating in the door frame to my right clued me in. Someone had shot at me.
I spun around, drawing my axe. People scrambled, now paying attention to me. A despondent orc was one thing, one holding an axe at the ready was something else. For a moment, I took a perverse pride in the sight of that many people fleeing. Yes! Flee the mighty orc Nuisance Man!
Then, I realized that most of them weren’t looking at me. Instead, they were staring at the tall figure, calmly rewinding the crossbow in her hands. She stood at the end of the street I was crossing, and seemed to be focused on me. It was a little hard to tell, since she was dressed in black leather, from head to toe, and wore a wide, low hat that slouched over her face, but there was a gleam from the shadows beneath. Long, white hair hung down her back, tied into a simple tail. Any doubt about where she was looking was dispelled when she lifted the crossbow to her shoulder, sighted down it, and pulled the trigger.
I dove to the side as the quarrel left the bow. It barely missed me, striking the cobbles with a ringing sound and ricocheting away. I leapt up, snarling, only to see that she’d already covered half the distance between us. In mid-sprint she was flinging the crossbow over her shoulder and drawing two deadly looking, long, knives from the belt at her waist.
And she was fast. Not Lara fast, but fast enough. I barely got the axe up and around before she was on me. I blocked one blow, but her other hand came around and scored a hit on my right arm. The blade bit, but I managed to jerk away, so that it wasn’t too bad a wound. It made me mad more than anything.
She might have been a Nuisance Man who saw the notice before I got to it. Maybe she went in when Sarge wasn’t there, although she wasn’t anyone that I recognized.
She was good. Her knives kept moving in complex patterns, and her foot work was excellent. She almost danced across the cobblestones as she struck out at me and dodged my own blows. But I was getting good with that axe. I didn’t know if it was something about being in an orc body, or if I had a natural affinity for it, but I was slinging it around like an old hand.
So much so, that I finally scored a hit. She came in wide, knives out and angled to slash down in a cross. Instead of blocking, I stepped forward and rammed the axe straight in, catching her in the jaw with flat end between the blades. It wasn’t even close to a fatal blow, but it was a good one.
She flew back, collapsing to the ground, and I straightened, proud of myself and strangely elated. I’d always thought myself good, and now I proved it as an entirely different race.
But my happiness was short-lived. There was a strange sound that took me a minute to recognize. It was laughter and it was coming from my assailant. She leapt up, showing no sign that I even touched her, let alone knocked her on her ass. Even her hat was still in place.
She put the knives away and drew a sword. The funny thing was, I wasn’t sure where she drew it from. I didn’t see a scabbard or blade anywhere on her. And where did those knives go? I thought she drew them from her belt when she charged me, but they were nowhere in sight. The same was true of her crossbow. It was no longer hanging down her back, but seemed to simply be gone.
That glint from under her hat appeared again, and I caught a glimpse of teeth showing as she smiled. Her sword was held steady, point angled slightly down.
“I don’t know who you are,” I said, “but this is a mistake. That notice was put up by the real bad guy.”
She didn’t say a word in return, merely lifted her sword, and came at me.
She’d been playing with me before. Her sword was everywhere, and before I could even raise my axe I had a dozen new cuts on my arms, my torso and even my face. I tried to block, but she worked around it in apparent ease, and was getting even better as we fought.
Finally, I barely stopped a thrust that would have skewered my heart. I needed to end this. I fell back, and kept going, letting her see the fear on my face. That part was easy, since I wasn’t pretending. Regardless of how much I retreated, she came on, pressing her attack. Then, I suddenly jumped forward, a suicidal move in most fights, but not to strike with the axe. Instead, I barged into her full bodied, knocking her off-balance slightly, and took off running.
She wasn’t off-balance for long. Within moments she was running behind me, but where my boots pounded out a rhythm on the street, she moved silently. Glancing back, I saw that strange gleam from the shadows concealing her face again.
As I’ve mentioned before, orcs are made for running. I stayed ahead of her, and soon extended my lead. I let my body guide me, feeling the strength in my lungs that would let me run all day and into the night if I needed to.
However, I needed to keep glancing back. She ran so silently that it was the only way that I could tell if she was still behind me. I was so concerned with running away, that I never stopped to think of where I was running to.
I broke into a long, straight street, with large brick buildings stretching out on each side. There were no cross streets or alleys here. It was called Flatiron Street, an area that once housed a lot of manufactories and warehouses. Most had been closed up for years, although a few were now reopened by industrious dwarves, and even a few humans with new ideas for old places. But by and large, they were deserted.
My assailant stopped, reached over her shoulder and pulled her crossbow back out from wherever it was hiding. A quarrel appeared when she reached down to her
side where a quiver might hang, and she placed it in the groove, sighted, and fired.
It got me in the shoulder and I felt like I was kicked by a mule. I tumbled headlong, rolling over and letting out a scream and a curse as I came back up on my shoulder. But I didn’t stop. I veered to the side, feeling the next bolt pass by, a near miss.
I put on the speed now, trying to put distance between us and not caring about my stamina.
I hit the door of one of the abandoned buildings at a full run, bashing the lock, such as it was, free of the frame and scrambled inside, swinging the door shut behind me.
The interior was filled with giant metal vats, heavy duty carts, and chains and hooks hanging from the ceiling. With any luck, I could play hide and seek in here, and get in a surprise attack when I could. Without looking, I leapt up, grabbed a hold of the lip, and scrambled into one of the vats.
It was filled with a slimy, gloopy, green mess. I didn’t know what it was, but it smelled horrible. Some remnant of whatever they had been doing in here, left to fester.
I didn’t have time to retch. I heard the door open and chanced a peek over the rim of the vat and saw her; tall, thin, dressed in black like the night itself, standing in the entry, eyes still hidden.
I sank down, drew a quiet deep breath, and submerged.
Those same orc lungs that let me run without tiring worked equally as well now. I stayed under that foul liquid for much longer than I could have as a human. But finally, I needed to come up for air.
I surfaced very slowly, opening my eyes once I was clear of the goop. There was no sound, but there wasn’t before either. I carefully moved to the side of the vat and eased myself up.
My attacker had passed me by. She was stalking down at the far end of the building. Then, she opened the back door and went out.
I stayed where I was, frozen, I’m not ashamed to say, in fear. I was sure that she would return any minute. But after several passed, she didn’t, and I slowly, quietly climbed out of the vat, once again covered in a foul-smelling slime.
I may not have known who she was, but it occurred to me as I held my breath what she was. She wasn’t a Nuisance Man who saw the notice. She was a filthy bounty hunter. A totally different animal.
I fumed as I tried to wipe some of the goop off me. A bounty hunter, the poor imitation of a Nuisance Man. Nuisance Men worked with the Watch. We weren’t part of the Watch, and retained our independence, but we were part of the system. The one that ensured that only the guilty were being hunted down and eliminated. Maybe that system had some problems, and maybe it was getting to be high-time to fix it, but it was legitimate.
Bounty hunters had no such system. There were no checks on what they did, and as far I could tell, they had no morals either. As long as you could afford the price, you could employ a bounty hunter to go after anyone. They weren’t exactly legal, and were remnants of the times before His Majesty opened the borders.
Oleg must have squirreled away some money before he left the Wulfonson compound. He not only tried to get the Nuisance Men on me, he had hired the scum of the earth as well.
I took a moment to check my shoulder, and sagged with relief when I saw that that the quarrel had only grazed me. It left a good cut in my shoulder, but it should heal, providing there was nothing in this goop that would prevent that.
I growled to myself as I searched the place, finding a few old sacks and large, rotting pieces of cloth. I wrapped myself in them, throwing some over my head as a make-shift hood. The goop actually helped. It was so sticky that the old fabric clung to it, making it easier to disguise myself.
Soon, I looked and smelled like a beggar, someone who was down on their luck and hadn’t seen the right side of a bath in a long time. I affected a limp, and went out the back door, following along the path the bounty hunter took. It seemed counter-intuitive, but if she was watching Flatiron Street, she’d see me come out. The back of the building faced an alley, and from there, I could work my way back to more populated areas, and then home.
I was on pins and needles the whole time. In the alley I found an old, dented metal cup, and I tossed a stone in it to make noise. Rattling it in front of me, I limped and shuffled along, asking for alms in a querulous voice.
When I reached my house, I took a quick count of the coins in the cup. Huh. I made enough to buy an ale. Who said the people of Capital City were heartless?
For what felt like the hundredth time, I stripped down right there in the street before entering my house. I’m not sure what the neighbors must have thought this time. Bad enough when I did it, but now an orc was stripping to his drawers and going into my home. If I ever talked to them, I’d have some explaining to do.
I cleaned myself up and tumbled into bed, exhausted by the day’s events. It wasn’t even dark yet, but I didn’t care. I wanted to sleep. Tomorrow, I could figure out my next move, which I was thinking involved going to the watchhouse and letting Sarge know there was a bounty hunter around. The Watch didn’t like them any more than the Nuisance Men did.
It was full dark when I was awakened. The pain was unbelievable and I came to, writhing and cursing. My joints would lock up and I’d freeze in whatever positions my gyrations left me in, then they’d free with a snap and I’d be thrashing about once more. I fell from the bed, hardly noticing from the blinding pain.
Finally, after what felt like hours, it subsided. I held my hand up but it was too dark to see it clearly. Exhausted, I lit a lamp and looked again. My hand was back to normal. I felt my face, and there were no more upright fangs. My teeth were perfectly normal human teeth.
I was back! The potion had finally worn off! I laughed, and fell back into bed.
Good. Tomorrow, I’d find that bounty hunter. She was expecting an orc, not me. By the time she noticed me, I’d be on her, and in my own body, I was confident that I could take her.
I sighed happily as I closed my eyes, only to have them snap open as the sun was beginning to break through the clouds. The feeling was coming back.
“No,” I whimpered, and that was the last thing I said for a while, as the convulsions took over again. When it was done, and I lie panting and sweaty on the floor, I was fully orc once more.
Dr. Visage's potion was wearing off, but it wasn't happening all at once. I was in orc form again, and didn’t have the slightest idea of when I would turn back to myself.
I hid. There's really no other word for it. I stayed in the house for the next two days, avoiding the windows as much as possible, eating and drinking whatever was on hand, which wasn't much. Finally, the food ran out, and the ale right after. There was no choice. I would have to leave.
There were no signs of me turning into a human again. No pains in the middle of the night, or during the day for that matter. Nothing. And strangely, there were no complaints from the voice in my head. It felt like the only one in my mind, was me.
I took a couple of old blankets and wrapped myself in them, trying to hide my features and stature. I would have to try to get out without being seen by that bounty hunter that Oleg set on me. Whoever she was, I was no match for her, at least not like this.
But I had observed the way she moved, and been thinking about it. As a human, I was good enough to take her on. I just needed to get my own body back.
There was no wandering of my mind as I walked through the streets this time. I kept my eyes open and moving, watching down side streets and alleys as I passed them, staying out of unpopulated areas. It didn't do wonders for my "walk and think" strategy, but I ended up watching for my assailant so much that I didn't pay attention to where my feet were taking me.
My feet were smarter than my brain.
I realized where I was. I stood in front of a magnificent stone building. Two tall stories with a bell tower raised above. The large wooden doors were closed, but they were unlocked. They always were, since anyone was welcome at the Temple of the Good God any time, day or night.
And Father Magnus didn't care if his vi
sitor was human, orc, or even troll. If you came seeking help, he would do his best to give it to you. He was a fixture in the city, and one of the few that you could count on being exactly as he seemed. There was no guile or artifice in the man. He was a genuinely good soul.
I’d known Magnus from the time I was small. My mother used to take there to listen to him every week. Like most kids, I bored of it and didn't really listen, and then I fell out of the practice as an adult. But every time I came by, Father Magnus treated me like a friend and never once made me feel guilty about not attending his services.
Like I said, a bona-fide good person. Rare in Capital City.
The inside of the temple was something to see. Sunlight streamed through the colored windows, making beautiful patterns on the tiled floor and wooden benches. There were several people there, scattered about, sitting by themselves in various poses of worship or supplication.
Magnus was moving from one to the other, sitting with them and talking quietly. Sometimes they would pray together, sometimes he would simply leave them with a gentle smile and a whispered word.
I took a seat and waited my turn, watching him at his work. Regardless of whether I came here on a regular basis or not, this place always brought me a sense of peace.
Finally, Magnus sat next to me.
"How can I help you?" he asked softly.
"Father, it's me. Duke Grandfather."
"I see. Why are you hiding your face?"
I slowly reached up, glancing back at the closed doors before I removed my make-shift hood. To his credit, Magnus didn't gasp, shrink back, or even smirk. He simply regarded me with the same understanding expression that he always wore.
"I need help," I said.
"I see," he said again. "What happened?"
I briefly told him my story. For once, someone heard the name of Dr. Visage and didn't laugh at me.
"Well," he said, when I finished. "I'm not sure what to do. We can pray together, of course, and if the Good God sees fit, perhaps he will intervene."
"I'd like that," I said.
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 77
