Skulduggery

by Logan Jacobs

  I nodded my head as I prayed to the ancients he was right. I didn’t want to die because some halfling didn’t know how to keep his damn mouth shut. I just wanted to get this over with so I could make my sample and move on to the next phase of my business plan.

  I might have been a tad out of touch, but I remembered the process as clear as a new summer’s day. I worked beside my father on the farm as we cared for the livestock, repaired fences, and distilled whiskey. My mother was kind and sweet, but I looked up to my father for his generosity and ability to accomplish anything he set his mind to.

  I dug my nails into my palms to stave off the memory of the orcs who ripped his body to pieces.

  If this didn’t work, the elves would be the ones ripping me to pieces.

  We made it to the building, an older cottage within the edge of the Falrion Forest where no one was likely to disturb us. The structure was quaint for someone of my size, but for a halfling it was perfect. The thatched roof was in disrepair, and the stone front was crumbled, but you could tell it was full of life. The chimney was smoking, the windows were well lit, and there was a cheery halfling song that filtered out through the open window.

  Dar entered first through the aged door, and I followed suit. I ducked my head to avoid getting a nasty bruise from the doorframe, and I was relieved to see the height of the ceiling was tall enough so I wouldn’t have to crouch.

  “Welcome to Adi’s Catering,” Dar’s cousin Adi blathered on. “Please make yourselves at home. Tea anyone?”

  We both shook our heads as I surveyed the messy space and noticed every surface was lined with clutter. Pots, pans, desserts, and even live chickens. The place was unsanitary, and I stifled a groan as I realized I’d have to scrub the hell out of whatever equipment I got from Adi before I could use it, and then I’d have to worry about keeping the workspace clean.

  If I could even find the pipes and containers I needed, of course.

  Adi poured us tea anyways and set the cups precariously on the edge of a pile of books, and the tea started to seep from the miniscule cracks in the china.

  I cleared my throat as I nudged Dar in the ribs with my elbow.

  “Right,” Dar began, “is it okay if Wade here takes a look around to find the parts he needs, and maybe a clean counter? I knew you were a mess, Adi, but this is beyond what Fenir told me.”

  Dar and his cousin looked nothing alike. Adi had cropped golden hair and chestnut eyes. Meanwhile, Dar’s hairdo was extravagant and as dark as the night sky, and his eyes were a portal to the graves of the ancients.

  “Sure, sure. Take whatever you need,” Adi said as he turned to dig through a pile of miscellaneous objects. “Ask me if you need help finding anything, and I might just be able to help. I also have a table in the backroom I keep clean that you can use.”

  I walked around the cramped space as I picked through piles of what I considered garbage. For a few minutes, I felt a bit overwhelmed by all the clutter, but then I held in a gasp as I saw a smooth curve of silver.

  “This is perfect.” I extracted a deep-welled silver pot with a metal lid from a stack of pots and pans, as well as another smaller one of the same style.

  “That’s a fine one indeed,” Adi laughed.

  “I’m going to need a hearth or something to put a fire on,” I said as I glanced toward his kitchen. Flies were swarming there, and I felt a bit of bile rising in my stomach.

  “Maybe out back?” Dar cleared his throat as he gestured. “I think there were some big flat stones out there.”

  “Good idea.” I stepped outside and found a large flat rock in the garden that I hoped would be enough to stop the coal from burning down Adi’s cottage. Then I went back in and dug through the piles until I found a bag of coal, a container of tar, some matches, an empty cloth bag, and two metal cake stands to hold the pots. The one stand had four legs on it so I could place the coal beneath it to heat my wash and make the whiskey.

  I added an empty glass, a corked bottle, and an empty jug to my pile of supplies before I searched for the final piece to my puzzle.

  I passed by stack upon stack of cookbooks and dug through drawers of silverware, but I couldn’t find what I needed.

  “Adi, do you know if you have any copper piping?” I asked.

  “I think I might,” Adi informed me. “It’s not much but it might help you out.”

  He traversed his way to the far wall and dug beneath a pile of what appeared to be family mementos. Then the halfling grunted and pulled out an old wind chime with pipes about two inches thick.

  “An old flame of mine gave this to me, and I couldn’t bear to throw it out,” Adi sighed.

  “I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Dar laughed. “That girl was known to sleep around. Hell, I’m pretty sure she told you she was going to continue sleeping with other guys after you started dating.”

  “Naw,” Adi groaned. “She never said that. She said she loved my cooking, but all she wanted was to settle down. She also kept cleaning up my space. I couldn’t find anything!”

  “How can you find anything the way it is now?” Dar sighed.

  I studied the gargantuan wind chime while the cousins bickered back and forth about the apparent halfling whore. It had copper pipes that hung from pieces of twine, and the one segment was just long enough for what I needed. Why anyone ever thought this would make a nice decoration, I had no idea, but it was perfect for my still.

  “Alright Adi, where’s the clean counter you promised me?” I asked the halfling caterer, and the two of them stopped bickering.

  “This way, come along now,” Adi gestured as he glared at Dar and walked through the messy piles.

  We followed him to the back room, where he pointed to a small table with just enough space for my makeshift still to fit.

  “Dar, go and fetch the wash while I put together the still, and fill this jug with cold water from his well,” I requested.

  “I can’t wait to taste it,” Dar announced excitedly as he took the jug from my hands and headed outside.

  I pulled my knife from my pocket and cut out a hole in the four-legged cake stand before I set it on the counter. Once that was done, I placed the larger of the two pots atop the surface and punctured a small hole in its lid. Then I punctured a small hole in the lower edge of the small pot.

  Next, I placed some coal on the flat stone and lit it with a match. The flames sprang to life in a bright array of heat and color.

  I cut the longest piece of copper from the wind chime and pieces of cloth off the bag of coal. Then I wrapped the cloth around my hands and hoped it was enough to protect me from the flame.

  “How’s it looking?” Dar asked as he set the cauldron of wash down beside me, a fermented mixture of cooked corn and yeast. I took a whiff, and while it wasn’t the perfect sweet and buttery corn fragrance I remembered, as it still had a faint hint of vomit smell, it would still make passable whiskey for what I needed.

  “Should be okay,” I said as I took the copper pipe and heated it over the blazing fire. Then I bent the top half so it would fit into my larger pot and coiled the latter portion that would be submerged in my smaller pot.

  “Your dad taught you how to do all this stuff?” my friend asked after I’d put the pots together.

  “Yeah,” I said as I shoved the straight end of the copper pipe through the hole in the larger pot’s lid. Next, I placed the coiled portion of the pipe inside of the smaller pot. Then I pushed the open end of the coil out of the hole I’d made toward the bottom of the pot, where it hung over a glass bottle.

  Finally, I coated the edges of the holes with tar to prevent any leaks.

  “What next?” Dar asked.

  “Now we bring in the wash,” I said, and then I set to work pouring the processed grains inside the cloth bag over the larger pot of the makeshift distiller. The mixture strained through the small pores, and after all the juices had poured out I replaced the lid. Finally, I added cold water into the smaller pot.r />
  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Dar asked with a frown.

  “Doesn’t it look like I know what I’m doing?” I asked as I gestured to the still I’d just built.

  “Well yeah,” he laughed, “but I’m supposed to keep asking you since I’m your friend and all and don’t want you to kill yourself with an alcohol fire or such.”

  “Penny told you to make sure I didn’t do anything dumb,” I said, and it was a statement, not a question.

  “Mayyyybeeee.” My friend grimaced, but I just let out a chuckle.

  I added more coal to the stone and placed it beneath the pot of wash. Then I sat back when it finally began to drip liquid joy into the glass at the end of the still.

  “It’s working?” Dar gasped and sat down next to me, but then he reached for the glass to take a sip, but I swatted his hand away.

  “Wait.” I replaced the glass with a sealable bottle and poured the first glass’s contents into a sink filled with dirty dishes.

  “Why are you wasting good whiskey! I would have drank that,” Dar exclaimed, and even his cousin looked shocked from his position behind him.

  “You would have drank it and spit it right back out,” I laughed. “The first bit of whiskey is as sour as Penny when she doesn’t get her way. Now sit back and wait until I have something you will enjoy.”

  Dar and Adi obeyed, and the two halflings sat in their respective chairs as they waited for their taste.

  I routinely tasted the drops until they turned sour and pungent, since I knew the tail “feint” of batch wasn’t fit to drink. Then I took the bottle away and replaced it with the first glass.

  I took the first sip of the finished product, and while it tasted acceptable, it was a far cry from the batches I made back home with my dad. This one lacked the smokey nuance mixed with a smooth aftertaste, and it also lacked hints of the malt and grain that provided an exciting profile and delighted the different parts of my tongue and throat. It was basic, but I supposed I should have congratulated myself for making this with the makeshift tools and equipment that I had.

  “Okay. Try this.” I handed the bottle off to Dar.

  He took a sip, and immediately his eyes lit up with a thousand stars as the clean taste of the drink sparked atop his tongue.

  “Wade … ” My friend trailed off as he started to blink away tears that formed at the corners of his eyes. “This… this… this is the stuff of legends.”

  “Uhh, you think so?” I asked. I thought he might have been lying, but there were actual tears running down his cheeks now, and my heart started to beat a bit faster in my chest.

  Maybe this would work after all.

  “Hell,” my friend said as he took another careful sip, “I would kill for this. I can’t believe you made it.”

  “It will be way better when I have all the equipment I need to get our project up and running.” I told him. “This is only the beginning.”

  Dar passed the glass to Adi, who took a sip and proceeded to rock back and forth on his heels like an excited kid at the Charity Parade who ran home with pockets full of gold.

  “Wow,” he finally huffed.

  “Isn’t it the best damn thing you ever tasted?” Dar asked.

  “It’s better than the best damn thing I’ve ever tasted,” Adi admitted. “I … I … almost can’t believe it.”

  “Like I said,” I started. “This is just the first batch, and--”

  “Lads, we could make a fortune off this!” Adi interrupted me and grabbed Dar’s shoulder. “Wait until I tell the others what I have in stock! I’ll be the richest halfling you ever knew! You all could produce it here, well, after I clean the place up a bit, and I could sell it for you with a cut of the profits. I’m going to be rich!”

  I narrowed my eyes as I wondered if Dar had made a mistake when he placed his trust in Adi. My plan would be ruined by a single loud-mouthed halfling who thought my product would make him a rich man. I debated if it was worth it to kill him to keep him quiet, but I didn’t think Dar would have approved.

  I needed to make a statement, though.

  I walked over to Adi, ripped the bottle from his hands, and slammed it down on the counter with such force all the cutlery sang.

  “Wha--” he started to say, but I took the knife from my pocket and pressed it against Adi’s throat, and his eyes widened as his life hung in the balance.

  “You mention this to anyone, and I will personally come back here to see you to the grave.” I grabbed the front of his shirt and leaned in close, and his lip quivered as he held up his hands to show his surrender.

  “Wade, I’m not gonn--”

  “I can’t have this blabbed all over town,” I hissed as the tip of my knife caused drops of blood to fall down his neck, “or the elves will have my hands chopped off for bootlegging before they execute me for stealing from them. It’s hard to make whiskey from the grave, don’t you agree Adi?”

  “Ye--”

  “But before I get to the grave,” I went on menacingly, “I’ll fucking gut you like the pig you are, and then I’ll cook up your meaty parts in your dirty ass kitchen. Do I make myself absolutely fucking clear?”

  “Yeah, Wade.” He shook beneath my hand, and I released him with a subtle nod.

  “What do you think, Dar?” I asked as I gave a side look to my friend.

  “I’m not sure if he’s gonna keep his mouth shut,” Dar said, and his words surprised me a bit. Dar was my best friend, and I trusted him, but I’d still wondered if he would pick his flesh and blood over me.

  Looks like I had my answer now.

  “I-I promise n-not to breathe a w-word of this to anyone, Wade,” Adi stuttered as he clutched his throat. “It will b-be our little se-secret.”

  “Good,” I hissed in his face. “If you keep your mouth shut, you will become a rich asshole. If you talk, I’ll fucking kill you before they get me.”

  “I-I-I got it,” Adi stuttered. “I want to be rich. Don’t wanna be dead.”

  “Our lives and our hands are at stake here,” I cautioned Adi. “Two things neither of us can afford to lose.”

  “Y-y-yeah,” Adi stuttered again as he wiped the blood from his neck. “You and I have an understanding, Wade. I got a bit greedy there. My apologies.”

  “Fine,” I said as I corked the glass bottle and handed it to Dar. “I’ll tell you what the next steps are when I’m ready. Keep that room where I was working clean. Think of the money and my dagger at your throat.”

  “Yes, Wade,” the halfling practically whimpered.

  Adi maintained his fawn eyes as we walked toward the exit of his home. He was probably scared I would change my mind and gut him anyways, but I’m a thief, not a killer. Well, at least, I didn’t go out of my way to kill people, and I hadn’t killed anyone yet, but that small fact wouldn’t stop me from slitting Adi’s throat if I thought he’d betrayed me.

  We wandered back down the path all while Dar had the bottle in his arms like a newborn he was afraid to drop.

  “Adi would never tell a soul,” Dar assured me after we walked in silence for a few minutes. “Pulling a knife on the lad isn’t going to change that. I brought you to him because he is one of the few halflings I do trust, and I know a hell of a lot of halflings.”

  “He seems like a talker, and it’s your job to keep your cousin under control,” I reminded him as I ripped the bottle from his arms. “If he talks, it comes back on you, Penny, and me. We want riches, not to lose our hands and then our heads. We will be wanted men once the elves find out we stole an entire cart of sacramental wine from their warehouses, so adding this to the mix would just be the icing on the cake. Get it? This shit is important.”

  “I got it, Wade,” he said as he nodded and glanced down at the treasured bottle.

  “Good.” I didn’t want to have this conversation with him, but I didn’t think he took our situation seriously enough. I didn’t trust anyone except Penny and him, and Dar would need to be smart and
follow the same principles.

  Now, I just needed to find a place to make the damned whiskey.

  Chapter 8

  Today was the first day off I had in weeks, and it provided me with the time I needed to look for a workshop to conduct my whiskey business. I’d scoured the streets of the Dwarven District last week on my pickpocket travels and came up empty since their district was too close-knit for what I needed. I needed to find a place far from the eyes and ears of others, and dwarves were known for their nosy nature.

  I wasn’t too keen on the idea of a shop in the Halfling District either. I wanted my workshop to be as far from Hagan as possible. If I hid it in plain sight, the halflings and their loose tongues would have sold me out to Hagan for a few coins, whether I offered them whiskey or not.

  The Elven District was a definite no, since I wasn’t stupid enough to attempt bootlegging in the district full of people who would have my head for the crime. I already took a big enough risk when I went on the warehouse heist.

  I donned the threadbare cloak I’d stashed in the storage closet and tucked the bottle of moonshine within its folds. The cloak’s thin fabric was faded black without any adornments, and it had a few holes in spots, but it was otherwise as bland as they came. Even the string to tie it around my neck was only a thin piece of twine rather than the standard ribbon or leather of most. The cloak wasn’t the best, but it would keep me out of sight and out of mind, and I took the moonshine in case a patron needed to be convinced of my truth.

  There were several human sectors scattered among the Dwarf, Elven, and Halfling Districts, but the biggest one bisected all three. It was nicknamed the Entertainment District, but it was truly the black market of the realm. All sorts of unseemly business was concocted there, from the sale of volatile elixirs, to the use of orphaned children in brothels. It leaned toward a shadier clientele, since the elves, dwarfs, halflings, and orcs tended to despise humans, but the residents were trained to keep their mouths shut.