Fenzig's Fortune_A Gnome's Tale

by Jean Rabe

“But your aunt . . . you said she lives in K’Nosha. That’s a human town.”

  “There’re exceptions.” The gnome paused to finish the last of his bacon. “See, she and I are exceptions, not the rule.”

  “So, you live in a human town? Burlengren?”

  “I travel around a lot. Don’t call any place home. Not really. I haven’t been to Graespeck, my home town, for quite some time, been visiting human communities, the marketplaces. I like the human marketplaces.”

  “So do I.”

  Fenzig swept his gaze up to Carmen’s face and squinted, noted that the human had wrapped an orange-sequined scarf around his hat.

  “But you don’t like humans?” the peddler asked politely. “Just their trappings?”

  The gnome shrugged. “I try to like everybody. But humans are . . . well, their furniture is too large, the spoons too big for our mouths, their music sounds funny, and their humor doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “So you gnomes tend to avoid us?”

  “Most. Most of us keep to ourselves, like I said. Makes life easier. Even when I’m in human cities, I keep to myself.”

  “Must be lonely.”

  He nodded.

  “Which is maybe why people are suspicious of gnomes or don’t care for them,” the peddler offered. “Being different can frighten some people. And setting yourselves apart from the rest of the world can’t help.”

  The gnome shrugged again. “You’re different.”

  The peddler cocked his head. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.” He adjusted his broad-brimmed hat and stretched toward a kettle. “Care for some tea?”

  “Not this morning.” I’ve had enough sleep, thank you, the gnome added to himself. I need my wits about me if I’m to take your wagon and horses in broad daylight.

  Carmen picked up the last of the dishes and scrubbed them in a small tub of water. He put out the fire by dumping over the tub. “Ready?” he asked. “We’ve got to get on the road.”

  Fenzig jumped to his feet. He had to admit that despite the creeping line on his arm he felt good and was ready to travel again. His belly was full, he’d had a good night’s rest—better than he’d had in several days—and nothing untoward had happened to him. Of course, he still had to figure out how and when to clobber Carmen the Magnificent so he could steal the wagon and horses.

  “I was thinking last night,” Carmen began as he took a seat on the bench and grabbed the reins. “I know how important family is. And I can imagine what my family would be going through if something were to happen to me.”

  For an instant Carmen’s voice sounded sarcastic, but Fenzig dismissed it. “I need to see my aunt before she dies,” was all the gnome said.

  “I understand,” Carmen replied softly. “Family is important.” He flicked the reins, and the horses began to move forward at a steady, plodding pace. Then he turned to regard the gnome. “And because family is so important I’ve decided to go into K’Nosha after all. Why bother with peddling my wondrous wares in a small village when I can hawk to a much larger crowd in a city bursting with life? Besides, that way I can get you all the way to your aunt’s. Not to her door, mind you, I’ve no interest in seeing a withered old gnome woman, cute though she might be, who probably doesn’t like humans. No offense. Can you find her place on your own once we get to town?”

  Fenzig nodded yes and quickly dismissed all thoughts of thumping Carmen on the head. I’ve no need to resort to violence when I’m getting what I want anyway, he thought.

  “Of course,” Carmen added, “I’d appreciate a favor in return.”

  “Name it.”

  “Help me sell some of this stuff. It won’t take long, a couple of hours at most. You can visit your aunt first, then help me. When we’re done for the evening you can go back and spend more time with her. Consider it payment for the ride and the food.”

  “That’s the least I can do,” Fenzig agreed, though he had no intention of keeping up his end of the bargain.

  The pair soon fell into the routine of taking turns at the reins. The gnome seemed to have an aptitude for driving the team, and he liked sitting up high on the wagon, looking at the world from a different perspective.

  Farmland unfolded before them, and the gnome admiringly eyed the field hands weeding the crops. He respected them for being able to labor long hours like that, getting the skin on their hands cracked and dirty, but he felt sorry for them at the same time. They weren’t as smart as he was, or else they’d steal and swindle for a living. He guessed that in some respects Carmen and he were a lot alike. The gnome doubted that all those containers in the wagon were really filled with medicine to cure stomachaches, rashes, and whatnot. But he bet people paid good money for the concoctions regardless. The bottles looked nice.

  As the hours went by, they passed a few people on horseback. Carmen stopped the ones who were well dressed, which indicated they had some money about them.

  The peddler treated Fenzig to a bag of dried figs while he busied himself selling to a trio of fancily-attired travelers. The older man, who was wearing a fine black coat and matching trousers, stared hard at the side of the wagon.

  “I have a wart on my finger,” he said, extending his hand so Carmen could see. “I’ve had it for years, and I can’t seem to get rid of it.”

  “It’s a good thing you passed by,” Carmen said, rising and doffing his hat with a grand flourish. “I have just the thing.” The peddler excused himself and ducked into the back of the wagon.

  Fenzig munched on the figs as he listened to Carmen rummage around among the crates and bins. The peddler returned a few moments later with a blue glass jar stoppered with a green cork.

  “Wart remover,” Carmen announced, pointing at a label that Fenzig couldn’t read.

  “I’ll take it,” the man said. “How much?”

  “Only one gold coin,” Carmen announced.

  “That’s expensive,” the man returned.

  “Consider it a bargain ’cause it’ll get rid of your wart.”

  The man fished around inside his coat pocket and produced a shiny gold coin.

  “Do you have any hand cream?” The young woman who spoke looked as if she could be the older man’s daughter. She was pretty for a human, and her smile was warm.

  “Four pieces of silver, dear lady,” Carmen said as she once again disappeared into the wagon, returning a moment later with a small jar.

  “How about insect repellent?” asked the other member of the trio, a young man who could have been either the gentleman’s son or the girl’s husband. “Do you have any insect repellent that works? Really works? I don’t like all these insects. And I don’t want to buy something if it’s not going to work. You’re not some snake oil salesman, are you?”

  “Everything I sell works, and I don’t sell snake oil,” Carmen spouted. “I offer only the finest medicinal treatments. Use them according to the directions on the label and you’ll be amazed at the results.”

  The gnome admired Carmen’s glib tongue and persuasive spiels, and he took mental notes of how the peddler dealt with strangers. Maybe I’ll get enough money to buy my own wagon and start an operation like this, Fenzig mused as Carmen handed a vial of insect repellent to the young man and collected four more silver coins. The peddler bowed and doffed his hat to the young lady.

  “Does the stuff really work?” the gnome asked as they rode out of earshot of the trio.

  “My wares?”

  Fenzig nodded.

  “Of course the stuff works. Everything works, though I’ll admit that some concoctions work better than others. I brew all the elixirs myself.”

  “Are they hard to make?”

  “No, my dear gnome. I’m Carmen the Magnificent. Nothing is difficult for me.”

  When they rounded a bend in the road, Fenzig’s heart started beating faster. A small village came into view, and in the distance he could see the spires of K’Nosha. They were getting close. Nightfall would find him inside Duke
Rehmir’s imposing manor house, searching for the emeralds. By dawn, he would be back on the road toward Burlengren. He’d stop and steal a pony from this village, and then he’d have time to spare before this cursed homing spell could do him in.

  “What are you smiling about?” Carmen broke in on Fenzig’s pleasant musings.

  “I was thinking about my aunt.”

  It had been several years since the gnome had visited K’Nosha–he was nine or ten or eleven and with his mother, and he’d forgotten just how impressive it was. A high stone wall circled the city, and when they rode through the gate they passed between tall stone barbicans manned by sentries. Carmen nodded to the guards, and the gnome was amused to see their gaping expressions over the peddler’s mode of dress.

  “Just let me off here,” Fenzig quipped. “I’ll find my aunt’s place.”

  Carmen slowed the wagon, and the gnome climbed off.

  “Meet me in the center of town in a couple of hours,” Carmen instructed. “Show up as a curious customer and answer ‘yes’ to all of my questions.”

  “Huh?”

  “Not ‘huh.’ Yes. You’ll understand,” the peddler added.

  “Yes,” Fenzig said as he waved and quickly lost himself in the throng of people moving to and from shops. A few stopped in their tracks to glance at him, muttering “wee-one” just loud enough so he could hear. Others smiled and nodded as he passed by. The latter’s seeming acceptance of him made him feel a little better about humans. Not all of them were prejudiced.

  It was lunchtime, but for a change he wasn’t thinking about food. He practically skipped over the cobblestone streets, he was so happy to be near the duke’s home on schedule—if not a little ahead of it.

  The wagon certainly made better time than poor Mistake would have, he thought. He passed by the shops of armorers, woodworkers, scribes, tailors, glassblowers, and grocers. A weaver displayed a beautiful green and yellow quilt in the window, which Fenzig decided his aunt—his real and very healthy aunt back in his hometown—would like. If he stole enough items of his own from the duke’s manor house—after taking the emeralds, of course—he might stop and buy this for her on his way out of the city. He’d also have to buy a pony, or a horse and a plain-looking wagon, if he decided not to steal one, so he made a point of looking for the stables on his way out the other side of the city and toward the Duke Rehmir’s estate.

  Where the city ended on its northern boundary, the duke’s property began. The gnome marveled at the manicured lawn that went on for acres and acres and acres. The trees were all neatly trimmed, giving them a sculpted look, and in the distance Fenzig spied a magnificent garden filled with white, yellow, scarlet, violet, and bright pink flowers. The blooms were planted so that each complemented the others. Hundreds of butterflies flitted about them and drew the gnome’s attention for several minutes.

  Carmen could have taken a lesson in color from the gardeners, the gnome said to himself as he slipped behind a spruce and peered through the branches for a better look. He wanted to make sure he had the lay of the land during daylight, because he’d be back when it was dark, and he didn’t want any surprises like unexpected low spots in the lawn that might trip him up. He mentally charted his course from tree to tree to large rock to a statue of four women kneeling in the garden right up to the manor house wall. The less time he had to spend running across open ground the better. He couldn’t afford to get caught by the duke’s guards.

  He moved closer, finding another spruce to hide behind, and ogled the manor house. The wall surrounding it was made of natural stones and stood roughly five gnomes high. Fenzig suspected he would have little trouble climbing it, and the spikes on top were placed about a foot apart, so he’d be able to squeeze easily between them. Beyond was a massive structure made of white stone that Fenzig guessed to be five stories tall—the first hidden by the wall, the other four extending above it. It was trimmed with gray-blue slate and looked every bit as impressive as King Erlgrane’s castle, though this building was quite a little bit smaller.

  Its black slate roof was steeply pitched, and at intervals along the base of the roof were places for sentries to stand. The gnome counted eight sentries on this side, meaning there were likely an equal number on the other side, plus a few patrolling the grounds. An impressive army barracks was beyond the manor house, and more of the duke’s property extended beyond that.

  “Nothing too difficult,” Fenzig whispered. “There can’t be more than sixty or seventy rooms in the whole place. Finding the study won’t be that hard.” The gnome knew he could automatically eliminate the top and bottom stories. The first floor probably consisted of audience chambers, servants’ quarters, a kitchen, and dining room, maybe a ballroom if the duke was into throwing parties. The study likely would be on the second or third floor. Studies were often-used rooms, Fenzig judged, and an often-used room would not be on the topmost floors where a person would have to climb a lot of stairs to get there.

  A place like this must have lots of expensive knickknacks, he thought, deciding he might as well take a few crystal vases or expensive odds and ends as well as the emeralds—just some small, yet valuable things so he could show some reasonable profit from all of this.

  I’ll come back later tonight, the gnome thought. I’ll slip over the wall, climb to the second or third floor, find the study, grab the emeralds, and leave. If the search takes me a while, until morning, I’ll get that quilt for my aunt on the way out of town. King Erlgrane will be happy, end of homing spell, last I’ll see of that old wizard, and I’ll be alive.

  He glanced at his arm as he turned and started back toward K’Nosha. The blue line was definitely headed toward his elbow.

  By the time he made his way to the center of town, it was late afternoon. A crowd had gathered near the fountain, and Fenzig instinctively knew what was in the center of all those people. The crowd was too deep, and he was too short, to see over the people’s heads, so he started squeezing between them and making his way toward the main attraction—which had to be Carmen the Magnificent. He had no intention of helping out the peddler, had no intention of keeping his promise. He just wanted a closer look. Out of gnomish curiosity.

  Just a little closer, he thought. But not too close or he’ll see me. Maybe I want him to see me. Oh, why am I doing this? I suppose I owe Carmen something for the food and the ride, but I’d really rather just stay quietly in the background, out of sight and out of mind. That’s it, I’m not going any closer. In fact, I’ll turn back and . . . . The gnome had just about convinced himself to abandon the peddler and find some shady alley to doze in when he froze in his tracks.

  “You! Gnome!” Carmen called.

  Fenzig cringed. He had unwittingly made his way to nearly the front of the crowd, and he was being pointed at by the gaudily attired peddler.

  “Yes?” Fenzig remembered his line perfectly.

  “I’ll bet you’d love something to keep your feet warm on those cold winter nights!”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve got just the thing—hair growth tonic. Just spread some on the top of your feet, wait a little while, and you’ll have even more hair—a thick, curly mass to keep out the chill. Would you like to try some before buying?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then step right up and spread some of this on the tops of your feet.” Carmen winked at Fenzig and passed him a bottle of thick blue cream.

  As the gnome started spreading it on his feet—registering that it smelled horrible—he listened to the peddler continue his pitch. “You there with the bald head. I’ll bet you’d like to have a great mass of curly hair when you wake up in the morning.”

  “I guess I would,” the fellow agreed, embarrassed at having been singled out, but hopeful nonetheless.

  “Well, all you have to do is buy a bottle of my tonic, spread a little on before going to bed, and in the morning you’ll be the delighted recipient of women’s admiration. Your barber will be amazed. Your friends won’t re
cognize you!”

  “How do I know it’ll work?” the bald man asked, a hint of skepticism lacing his voice.

  “Let’s ask our gnome demonstrator,” Carmen said. “Well, gnome. Do you have more hair on your feet? Did the tonic work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like to buy a bottle and recommend it to all of your friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “And would you say it’s the finest hair tonic that can be had anywhere in the land?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll buy a bottle!” the bald man cried.

  “Give me two bottles,” called another.

  “I’ll take three!”

  “And let’s not forget some of my other fine products,” Carmen added as he took in gold and silver pieces and handed out bottles filled with the noxious-smelling cream. “How about my fabulous wrinkle remover? Maybe our gnome friend would be willing to demonstrate that one, too. Do you have wrinkles, gnome? Age spots?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like them to go away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put on some of this,” Carmen barked as he thrust a red ceramic jar into Fenzig’s small hands. “That’s it; just smear the stuff anywhere you have wrinkles.”

  The gnome sighed and started smoothing the salve on his face and hands.

  “It’ll take a few minutes to work, ladies and gentlemen,” Carmen continued to babble. “In the meantime, step right up and procure your hair-growth tonic. I have only a limited number of bottles of this fabulous miracle concoction left to sell.”

  Fenzig stood there looking at his hands while people pressed closer to the wagon and shelled out their hard-earned coins.

  I don’t have wrinkles or age spots, he grumbled to himself. I’m not old enough to have wrinkles or age spots. I’m only fifteen. I want out of here. I want to hide until it’s dark, then be on my way to Duke Rehmir’s manor house.

  “Well gnome?” Carmen quipped just as Fenzig turned to leave. “Did the cream work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it get rid of all your wrinkles?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want some!” a woman called. “And I want two jars for my sister!”