Protector Of The Grove (Book 2)

by Trevor H. Cooley

  There was an intake of breath among the dwarves and the gnome inclined his head acknowledging their reaction. “An amazing power to be sure, but the sword has its faults. The control over the individual lasts only as long as the blade is piercing their skin. The moment I remove the blade, they will remember everything I made them say or made them do and regain full control of their own will. It is a powerful sword, but this defect makes it one that, in my position, I can only rarely use.”

  “But that,” he said, pulling the blade away from her gaze. “Ends today. Where my predecessor Abernathy looked to harness the power of a rogue horse’s soul for his own trivial comfort, I will put it to much greater use. You see, with a rogue horse’s soul bound to this sword of mine, I will be able to overcome its deficiencies. No longer will I need to pierce the flesh of a person to enact control. I need only be nearby. I am not sure what the final range of its power will be, but if Abernathy’s Barrier can cover a vast city, why can’t Aloysius’ Mastery?”

  Tarah swallowed. She was wrong before. This gnome was indeed the giant from her dream.

  “I don’t like the friggin’ sound of this,” Blayne said, eying the sword with suspicion.

  “Ah, don’t worry yourself, ringmaster,” Aloysius said. “I very much doubt its power will be effective on dwarves, especially with all those trinkets you smugglers wear. I promise not to use it to try and cheat you at any rate. I will have too much need for your services after this is over.”

  Blayne relaxed, but only a little.

  The gnome’s stewards soon returned, Evan with a brazier full of glowing coals and Shade with a nervous-looking bespectacled man who looked like he had just been rousted from sleep.

  “Now, then,” Aloysius said. He approached Esmine with his sword in hand. “I am truly sorry, poor thing. But this is for the greater good after all.”

  No-no-no, Tarah thought. Please don’t happen. Please!

  The gnome slid his blade across Esmine’s throat.

  * * *

  We’re screwed, Willum thought, wide-eyed as the rogue horse collapsed, her shimmering blood pooling on the ground beneath her.

  “This gnome is amazing,” said Theodore, his voice filled with awe. “I truly must applaud his forethought. Imagine, Willy. With a sphere of influence the size of a city he could rule with impunity; marching armies across the lands, subjugating nations, and no one could stand against him. No assassin could go through with a plot once they drew near. Ho-ho! Every army that came against him would turn around and join his cause.”

  I got the idea when he was talking, Willum said. He looked at Tarah to gauge her reaction. Her head was down, her face defeated. It didn’t look like she was going to be much help. Stop admiring the gnome and help us get out of this situation.

  “What do you want me to do, Willy? I don’t have that much energy,” the imp grumbled. The axe was still lying in the back of the wagon along with Djeri’s sword and the rest of the party’s weapons. “You don’t kill enough things with me.”

  I don’t know. Can’t you set the wagon on fire or something? Cause a distraction?

  “What good would that do? You are all tied up.” Theodore remarked. “Ho! The wagon starts on fire. The dwarves put it out. Situation over.”

  Willum watched sadly as the gnome cut a long strip of the rogue’s hide free from its flank and handed it over to one of the red-sashed stewards. He handed his sword to the one Tarah called, ‘Shade’.

  “Now I want this process to last, understand?” Aloysius said, addressing the leathermaker. Shade presented the pommel to the little man and Willum saw that the sword’s handle had been stripped down to the metal. “The binding runes must be impressed delicately. I do not wish it to be rough on my hands.”

  “But of course, Scholar,” the man said taking a small pan out of a black bag he had brought with him. He filled the pan with an opaque yellow fluid and sat the long strip of hide inside. “My proprietary formula will have the hide ready for stamping in minutes. When I am finished, it will be as the finest snakeskin handles.”

  “Oh ho, he’s good this gnome. He knows it too. He’s so excited, he can’t help but talk. What a gloater. Next part of the ritual says he’ll need to devour part of the rogue. With this one’s flair, he’ll probably drink some of the beast’s blood and marvel at the qualities of its flavor.”

  Not unless he plans on licking it off the ground, Willum replied, feeling numb. He’s just let it pool around the body.

  Aloysius pulled a small dagger from within his robes and cut two triangular pieces of flesh from the rogue horse’s side. He then had one of the stewards dust them with salt.

  “When Scholar Abernathy did this, he drank the blood of the poor beast,” Aloysius said, laying the meat on the brazier. “Barbaric. Raw blood? What if the creature had a parasite? No this will be much better.” The smell of sizzling horse meat soon filled the air.

  “What was I thinking, Willy?” said the imp. “Ho, of course this gnome has to be different.”

  The scholar’s retinue of stewards parted as the two gnome warriors returned. Cletus was walking beside them. Scholar Aloysius raised an eyebrow. “Well there you are, Warrior Cletus. What have you been up to?”

  The tall gnome was looking at the scene with abject horror. He raised one long-fingered hand to his mouth. “I taked too long. Poor horsey.”

  “Cletus was causing trouble on the far side of the camp, Scholar,” said one of the gnome warriors. He had a deep cut on the side of his face. “It was difficult to convince him.”

  “What is this, Cletus?” Aloysius said. “You refused a scholar’s order?”

  “No, Scholar,” said Cletus, tears forming in his eyes as he looked down at the rogue horse. “Scholar Tobias said kill Shade’s dwarves. Stop Shade’s plans.”

  “Wait a dag-gum friggin’ minute!” shouted Blayne. “Where’s my boys I sent after him?”

  “He had killed the dwarves sent after him, ringmaster,” said one of the gnome warriors. “When we found him, he had just finished slaughtering all of your horses and had begun cutting down the tents on your side of the camp.”

  “He what?” The dwarf raised his crossbow, aiming for Cletus’ head.

  “Stop,” said Aloysius, raising a hand. “Steward Jessica will see that you are compensated for your damaged goods.”

  “It ain’t just the money!” said the dwarf. “Or even the durn horses. They was good boys. Experienced, dag-blast it! You can’t replace them with coin!”

  “Killing Cletus won’t replace them either. Jessica!” While Jessica walked over to deal with the dwarf, the scholar turned his meat over on the brazier. “Cletus you have been very naughty.”

  “I was following Scholar Tobias’ orders,” Cletus said.

  “And what if he had ordered you to kill Steward Oliver? What if he had ordered you to kill me?” Aloysius asked.

  Cletus frowned in confusion. “Scholar Tobias don’t like you, but I know the rules. Don’t hurt stewards. Don’t hurt scholars.”

  “What is the third rule of a gnome warrior?” Aloysius asked. He speared one of the chunks of meat with his dagger and raised the steaming flesh in front of his lips, blowing on it.

  “Always obey a scholar,” Cletus and the two gnome warriors said in unison.

  “Good. I am having you reassigned to me, Warrior Cletus,” Aloysius said. He placed the still steaming piece of meat in his mouth and chewed. “You will stop doing Tobias’ bidding and listen to my command.”

  “I told you he’s smart, Willy,” said the imp. “He could’ve let Blayne kill Cletus, but you should never throw away an asset you can still use.”

  “O-okay,” said Cletus hesitantly. “But, Scholar, could you let my friends go?”

  The scholar continued to chew. “Let them go, Cletus? That will not be possible. I want to keep them around to make sure my artifact works.”

  “Okay,” said Cletus. “After that can you let my friends go, Scholar?”

&nb
sp; Aloysius swallowed and speared the second piece of meat. “You are in no position to ask for favors, Warrior Cletus. You are being penalized for bad behavior. For the foreseeable future I am forbidding you from having ‘friends’. You will return to a focus on your studies and training. You have become lax.”

  The gnome wilted, his long face sad. “O-okay, scholar.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Cletus!” yelled Djeri, “He’s no scholar!”

  “Silence him,” Aloysius commanded. Arcon gestured again and, though the dwarf continued to shout, only a few muffled sounds escaped the armor. The gnome nodded. “This meat isn’t bad. I would have preferred some pepper. Perhaps a bit of sage.”

  “Ho-ho I knew it,” snickered the imp. “Usually you can’t get a gnome to eat. But if you feed one that’s on their focus, they talk like they’re chefs.”

  Stop commenting and think! Snapped Willum as the scholar went to check on the leatherworker’s progress. You need to do something!

  “I’m not sure what,” said the imp. “Perhaps if I concentrate I may be able to protect you from the effects of his new artifact, but that depends on its power. Even then, I don’t see how that helps you get free. That fool Cletus would be your best bet. But as you can see, he’s pretty helpless at the moment.”

  Why doesn’t he just fight? Willum asked. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to listen to the scholar.

  “These gnome warriors have the rules ground into them when they’re young. It’s one of their basic principals. Ho. Don’t attack stewards. Don’t attack scholars. Do whatever a scholar tells you, unless-. Hmm . . . Ho-ho! Perhaps Djeri had the right idea. Here’s what you say.”

  Willum licked his lips. “Cletus! He’s not a scholar. He’s a warrior. Look at him! He has a sword. He can’t tell you not to obey-!” Arcon silenced him with a gag of air. Willum struggled, but couldn’t get another sound out. He just hoped his message had gotten across.

  “Why was he not gagged earlier?” Aloysius asked the dwarves as he eyed Cletus’ reaction. “I will not stand for incompetence.”

  “They was bein’ quiet before,” Donjon said, but the gnome wasn’t listening to his explanation.

  Aloysius’ gaze was still on Cletus. “Warrior Cletus you ignore what that man said. Understand?”

  “Okay, Scholar,” Cletus said but, when Aloysius turned away, Cletus watched him very carefully.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Tarah fled.

  The moment she saw the blood pouring from Esmine’s neck, she ran screaming into a dark place in her mind. Here there was quiet. No one to see her shame. No one but her memories.

  You protect those that are helpless when you can, chastised her papa.

  I tried, but I failed, papa, she replied.

  Tarah Woodblade never fails, said Grampa Rolf. And even if she does, she would never admit it.

  I know! she shouted.

  Yet she had failed. Tarah Woodblade had failed the most important job of her life. Esmine, that sweet beast, was dead, slaughtered before her eyes. And it was her fault. Why? Why hadn’t she been able to stop it?

  As if in answer, Tarah saw a spot of light in the darkness. It approached her, growing larger and larger. As it grew near, she saw that the light was, in fact, Esmine’s white skin. The rogue horse stood in front of her, looking just as she had when Tarah first met her. Strong, vibrant, powerful. No, that was wrong. Esmine looked even more powerful than back then. Now she shone.

  What do you want from me? Esmine asked.

  Esmine! she said, sobbing. Please forgive me! This was all my fault.

  What do you want from me? the rogue horse repeated, cocking her head. Tarah saw white ropes of energy floating towards her from Esmine’s chest.

  Please forgive me! Tarah said. I’m so sorry. You should have lived another thousand years. You would have if not for me. I’m the one who killed you.

  I know this, Esmine said. She repeated, What do you want from me?

  I-I want your forgiveness. Tarah said. Though I know I don’t deserve it.

  The rogue horse blinked. Such power is beyond me. Ask something else.

  Tarah’s heart fell. What had she expected? Just be happy. Move on and find peace.

  I do not know this, the rogue horse replied confused.

  Esmine! commanded another voice in the darkness. There, in the distance, appeared the gnome scholar. He sat cross-legged with his shining sword across his knees. His long arms were outstretched. Esmine come to me.

  The rogue horse gave Tarah an apologetic look and turned towards the scholar.

  Wait! Don’t go! Tarah said.

  Esmine! Aloysius called again and the rogue horse walked towards him, the white ropes of energy trailing behind her. Come, Esmine. Obey me. I have need of you. The rogue horse broke into a trot.

  No! Tarah said. Her staff appeared in her hand and she ran towards the gnome, intending to battle him. But she didn’t move. She ran as fast as she could, but she grew no closer.

  Esmine continued towards the gnome and Tarah saw white ropes of energy leap from the gnome’s sword and wrap around the rogue. Tarah knew what was happening. It was like the imp had explained to her. The gnome was using binding magic to enslave Esmine’s soul.

  She could not let that happen. Tarah raised her staff and pulled it back, intending to hurl it at him like a spear. Then she paused. The ropes of whiteness that led from Esmine to her rose with the staff.

  Tarah looked at her weapon. In this place it wasn’t blood red, but brilliantly white. Thousands of tiny white threads extended from the staff in every direction. Something clicked in Tarah’s mind. These were links. Spirit magic links, each one connected to the spirit of a creature whose blood the staff had absorbed. The white ropes linking her to Esmine came to the staff as well.

  Tarah watched the gnome cast rope after rope of his own white magic, urging Esmine closer. As he did so more of her conversation with the imp came back to her. There were prerequisites for binding. She tried to remember exactly what Theodore had said.

  “One must first kill a creature you wish to bind.” Esmine had acknowledged that her death was Tarah’s fault.

  “Eat part of it.” Tarah had swallowed Esmine’s blood on the day of the attack.

  “Create an item using part of the creature’s body.” She hadn’t done that, but her blood staff allowed her to skip that step. Djeri had told her how the staff had absorbed Esmine’s blood.

  “Then commune with the spirit of the creature and convince it to work for you.” Tarah swore. So that’s what Esmine had wanted from her.

  The gnome had many ropes of magic around Esmine now. Tarah couldn’t hear what he was mumbling but she already knew what the gnome wanted of the rogue. Esmine must not have liked what he asked, because she resisted, pulling back. But Aloysius was insistent. Some of his ropes of magic changed color, turning gray.

  Esmine! Tarah shouted, holding out her staff. Come to me! I know what I want of you. Come! Don’t listen to him.

  The rogue horse pulled harder, moving slowly away from the gnome’s grasp. Tarah pulled along with her, willing the ropes of spirit magic leading from her staff to tighten. She cried out Esmine’s name again and another rope leapt from her staff like a lasso, wrapping around the rogue horse’s torso.

  What are you doing? Obey! commanded the gnome.

  Aloysius stood in anger, holding out his sword at the rogue and his eyes widened as he noticed Tarah for the first time. Tarah snarled at him and pulled tighter on her staff, willing Esmine to turn her way. The rogue horse turned.

  Come, Tarah said. Work with me. We’ll work together.

  Where are you going, Esmine? said the gnome, his voice rising in power. Come to me, Esmine. You belong to me. I killed you. I devoured you. I command you.

  Aloysius grew, his form increasing in size, becoming larger and larger. Tarah pulled and Esmine strained toward her. The scholar grew bigger, gradually turning into the giant Tarah had seen in her dreams. Black rop
es leapt from his mouth combining with the gray and white ones.

  Esmine screamed as her progress stopped.

  How dare you, Tarah Woodblade? This rogue horse is mine. Bought and paid for. You have no claim.

  I have every claim you do! She replied, pulling on the ropes again. Come, Esmine, work with me.

  The giant grew as the rogue horse struggled. Esmine looked into her eyes, her voice pleading, What do you want from me?

  Tarah had thought on this and she knew what she wanted. Come. We’ll work together. Help me escape. Help me take all my friends and hide.

  Hide? Esmine asked.

  Tarah could tell the thought appealed to her. Yes. Hide with me.

  I accept, Esmine said.

  The rogue horse surged forward, struggling to break free of the gnome’s grasp. But Aloysius wasn’t ready to concede. The ropes he had tied around Esmine solidified into the shape of a hand. A solid black hand that pulled the rogue horse towards the giant’s hungry mouth.

  The scholar had the benefit of age and knowledge as well as the fact that his claim on the rogue horse was more recent. Tarah knew that it was a battle that she shouldn’t be able to win, but that didn’t matter. She was Tarah Woodblade and she refused to fail again. If someone had to be a giant to win this battle, then so be it. She’d be a giant too.

  Tarah’s form began to grow, more white ropes leaping from her to help Esmine forward.

  * * *

  Willum watched Scholar Aloysius sitting cross-legged on the ground, his sword resting across his lap with its still-wet new leather grip. The leatherworker had complained that the leather needed to cure, but the scholar had been convinced that the leather would cure on its own once the binding was complete. Aloysius had his eyes closed and was leaning forward, his hands steepled in front of his face. He wore a large frown.

  Steward Jessica walked by with a scowl on her face, having just finished negotiations with the dwarves. Obviously she felt that the scholar had come out on the bad side of the deal. As she walked by, she stepped in the rogue horse’s blood and grumbled, “Disgusting! Isn’t someone going to clean that up?”