Hazelhearth Hires Heroes

by D. H. Willison

  Lee’s face lit up as though he remembered something important, and he fished in his pocket. “This is a tooth, isn’t it? Is it a dragon’s tooth?”

  Gnebnik scrunched his face more than usual as he glanced at the tooth fragment. “More like a lindworm. A small one at that. Two front legs, no wings. I shoulda warned you, don’t go touchin’ teeth with your bare hands. Use pliers.”

  “Oh?” said Sam, sniffing at his mug of ale.

  “Some of the beasties are venomous. Basilisks especially have a nasty venom. If you see a groove along the inner fang, don’t touch it.”

  Lee pocketed the tooth fragment, and wiped his hands on the edge of the table.

  “What is this level thing Teodrune talked about?” asked Sam, poking suspiciously at a reptilian knuckle bone with a wooden spoon.

  “You really are greenhorns,” said Gnebnik. “Yer level shows how likely you are to survive an encounter, among other things. If you’re running freelance, ya don’t have a rank like ya would in the army. Could be thrown into a group with others. Different classes. Different functions in the party. You may not understand what it means to be a level three mage, or a level four fighter but ya have to know what it means for your party.”

  Lee took a long draught of ale and thumped his mug on the table. “Not very catchy, though. Level four fighter? Sergeant Lee sounds better. Or Sir Lee…”

  “You’d never make a ‘Sir Lee,’ trust me,” said Sam.

  Lee took another draught of ale, the froth dribbling down his chin, as if to confirm Sam’s assessment.

  Gnebnik muddled his stew. “You two are not eligible for a quest yet, not until you’re level one at least. And ya should count yourselves lucky at that. Teodrune’s not all that careful about takin’ care of his men.

  “Well then, I won’t sign up with that fool,” said Lee. “These quests are voluntary, aren’t they?”

  “Aye, that they are. But once you sign, you’re in for the duration. No matter how things go. The party suddenly moves to a different region, has to fight off tougher monsters, or maybe half your party gets killed, and critters that you should’ve been able to take on seem a lot meaner. Trust me, yer best bet is to help me with armor for the next month, then see that trickster Frog'dk about gettin’ home. I’ve got a new apprentice coming in from Arania, so I won’t need you after that.”

  “Didn’t you say something about the village being overrun before then,” said Sam.

  “Unless that happens,” said Gnebnik “Then we’re all dead.”

  “Still. It wouldn’t hurt to at least try to become a… an adventurer, that was the name, right?”

  “Our scout should be coming tomorrow with a new lot ta be cleaned and repaired,” said Gnebnik. “But swing a hammer for me for a while, and maybe I’ll teach ya ta swing a sword.”

  Chapter 5

  The Dancing Dryad’s accommodations were a single room in the attic equipped with four bunks, a window barely large enough to poke one’s head out, and thankfully no rats. Sam’s wish for a bath went unfulfilled. Sam’s wish for Lee to have a bath went likewise unfulfilled.

  The two awoke with the sun. Or at least the sun’s light. The sun itself was obscured: a thick shroud of damp hung but a few hundred feet above, thin tendrils of fog occasionally scouting lower, swirling between buildings and treetops.

  They each scarfed a bowl of porridge, took a single step out the door of the Dancing Dryad, and regretted not packing a sturdy overcoat. The morning was chilly, made worse by a damp that seemed to seep into their bones. After a hundred paces, the warmth of the Dancing Dryad’s hearth was but a forgotten memory.

  After a quarter of an hour inspecting and sorting the pieces of armor and equipment they had laid out to dry the prior evening, an inner warmth began to drive back the chill. Gnebnik had just started demonstrating simple repairs, when they were interrupted by a rider.

  Lee stared wide-eyed at the rider’s mount. “What the hell is that? Looks like some sort of dinosaur!”

  “Sally? She’s my ospherant. We’ve been scouting together six years now.” The rider leapt from his mount, landing gracefully on the rough cobblestone.

  The creature was half again as tall as a draft horse, stood atop two muscular hind legs, with a massive tail for balance. Its willowy front limbs ended in hands with opposable thumbs, and outstretched they nearly reached the ground. Its head, the size of a rhino’s but more slender of form, mounted a pair of lance-like horns similar to an oryx.

  Sam, however, was focused on the rider. Who had a tail, feline ears, and piercing ice-blue eyes with slitted vertical pupils.

  Lee glanced at the rider, then at Sam. “Hello. I’m Lee. The slack-jawed wall-flower here is Sam.”

  “I’m Shin. You look like you’ve never seen an ospherant before.”

  “Nope. And Sam’s never seen a… whatever it is you are before.”

  “Lee!” barked Sam. “Show a little tact for once in your life.”

  Shin unfastened an oversized saddle bag and began carrying gear into the shed. “You fellows must be from a real backwater. I’m nekojin. Most folks shorten it to neko.”

  “Nice to meet you,” said Sam, eyeing the lanky feline more tactfully than Lee had. Though that bar was set rather low.

  Gnebnik inspected the gear. “Not much ta work with, but better than nothing.”

  “Picked up a couple muskets too,” said Shin. “The barrel’s bent on one of them, couldn’t exactly tell in the dark, but maybe Corene can scavenge some parts off it.”

  Lee ducked under the creature’s tail, removing a saddle bag from the opposite side. “So you’re the scavenger? Where do you find all this stuff?”

  “Scavenging the sites of skirmishes is not my first choice of avocation. But Sally and I can move more swiftly and silently than any other resident. The city cannot be choosy about where it obtains its gear.”

  “You see a lot of action out there?”

  “I do my best to avoid confrontations when possible.”

  “Like a scout, huh? Makes sense, I suppose. Maybe you and I can join up on these quests that Lord Raynor—”

  “Lord Raloren,” corrected Sam.

  “Yes, him,” said Lee. “The one who was recruiting warriors.”

  “Adventurers.”

  “Right. Anyway, with a group of us together, maybe you don’t have to play it so cautious.”

  “Playin’ it cautious is always a good idea,” said Gnebnik. “The wilderness’ll swallow up a whole party just as easily as a lone scout.”

  “And even a successful skirmish carries risks,” said Shin. “The scent of blood attracts some rather nasty—” Shin’s ears perked, eyes narrowed.

  “What is it?” Gnebnik’s voice was low.

  “Someone’s yelling at the gate,” said Shin.

  “City watch has been thin these days. Side gate might not be manned,” said Gnebnik.

  “Whoever it is, they’re rattling the gate,” said Shin.

  “You two stay here an’ unload, Shin an’ I will have a look.”

  “And miss the chance to rescue a damsel in distress?” said Lee. “Never.”

  “Idiot,” said Sam.

  Gnebnik grumbled and led them down a pair of alleys to the side gate. There was no formal gatehouse, just a reinforced section of wall with an arch and iron portcullis the size of a double door.

  “Help! It’s the moerko!” It was a child’s voice. “They’re right here.”

  Shin broke into a run, his long, agile legs covering distance like a gazelle. Gnebnik also broke into a run, though his stubby gnomish legs showed neither the grace nor the actual effect of the neko’s.

  A girl of perhaps twelve, human in appearance, wearing a wheat-colored tunic, torn and bloodstained, shook the bars of the gate. “Hurry!”

  Shin yanked out the locking lever, furiously cranking the lift winch. The portcullis creaked, groaned, and inched upward.

  “They’re right here!”

  A creatur
e that looked a cross between a toad and a baboon bounded to the opposite side of the portcullis and wrapped an oversized hand around the girl’s head, grotesquely elongated fingers reaching around her head the way a human hand might grasp a juicy apple. She screamed, wrapping her arms through the bars of the portcullis, hugging it tightly.

  Shin let go of the capstan to grab his javelin, the portcullis crashed back down. He darted to the portcullis and jabbed his javelin through the wrought iron bars, piercing the creature’s shoulder. The creature shrieked—half hyena, half howler monkey—let go of the girl, and hopped back out of reach. “Gnebnik, lift the portcullis, I’ll keep them back!”

  A second, larger creature bounded into view, making a grab for the girl’s shoulder before a swift jab of Shin’s javelin convinced it otherwise.

  Gnebnik grabbed the winch handle. “Get to the other side and crank. Get it up fast.”

  Lee grabbed a second handle of the winch and cranked. Sam, seeing no other way to help, grabbed the girl’s arms through the bars of the portcullis. “I’ve got you, child. What’s your name?”

  “Breta.”

  “I won’t let you go, Breta,” said Sam. This world seemed unreal just a day earlier, but his racing heart now told him otherwise.

  With a two-foot gap under the portcullis, Shin shouted, “That’s far enough. Lock it in place and let’s pull her under.”

  A third creature bounded into view and made a grab for Shin’s javelin. He pulled it back and jabbed: gouging a hole in the creature’s grotesquely elongated forearm.

  The largest of the three creatures bared a maw lined with a crooked mix of square and pointed teeth, bit into the girl’s shoulder, and tried to drag her away from the portcullis.

  A jab of Shin’s javelin connected with its gut, it howled and let go.

  “You have to let go of the bars and climb underneath,” said Sam. “I’ll pull you through.”

  Breta dropped to her knees, wiggling her head and chest under the portcullis. Sam had barely grabbed her under both arms when the smallest of the creatures locked its jaws around her thigh and yanked. The girl screamed, not in fear, but pain, as blunt teeth crushed the flesh of her leg. The beast tugged, scraping her abdomen against the spikes along the bottom of the portcullis.

  A second creature made a grab through the bars at Lee, who grabbed its arm, twisted, then shoved sideways, trapping its arm in the iron bars of the portcullis. Lee grinned, proud of a move that would have certainly raised the eyebrows of a referee at an intramural wrestling match.

  Gnebnik stabbed at the first creature with a shortsword.

  The creature with its jaws around the girl’s thigh pulled back, dragging her under the portcullis almost to her shoulders. It growled and whined, the look in its eyes were those of a feral dog fighting desperately for a stolen bone.

  Sam locked eyes with the girl—her brown eyes were teary, yet defiant. He had to do more. “Lee, help me, I can’t hold her.”

  Lee growled, released the creature’s arm, spun, and slammed a fist through the bars, connecting squarely with the creature’s baboon-like snout. The creature staggered from a blow jarring Lee to his bones.

  Shin jabbed the smaller moerko. It let go of Breta’s thigh and hopped back.

  Sam and Lee dragged the girl back under the portcullis to safety.

  The creatures howled, shook the bars, tried to lift the portcullis open but couldn’t do much more than rattle it. The largest of them thrust its long arms through the bars, grabbing only fistfuls of air. A jab of Shin’s javelin struck a glancing blow, tearing a gash along the creature’s hairy forearm, convincing it that the grass was, in fact, not greener on the inside of the gate. The three creatures retreated with a bizarre hopping gait.

  “Filthy beasts,” said Gnebnik, kneeling next to Breta to examine her. “Where were you injured?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “My little brother and sister, Nils and Jella. We have to help them. They’re still at the farm. Ma, pa, and our older brother are away. Selling the first harvest at market in Irondale. They won’t be back till the day after tomorrow.”

  Gnebnik pulled back the girl’s tunic around her shoulder, revealing a dinner-plate-sized semicircle of angry red bite marks. There were similar wounds on her right thigh and right forearm, as well as several dozen deep scratches. “Does it hurt when I do this?” He prodded along her forearm.

  “A little,” she said. “We have to go back. I left them there. I shouldn’t have left them there. I was in charge while ma and pa were away.”

  “Nothing looks broken, and it’s not bleedin’ too bad,” said Gnebnik. “We’ll get you cleaned up and you should be fine.”

  “Where are the city watch when you need them?” said Shin.

  Lee glanced at Gnebnik, then back at Shin, waiting for the answer, before realizing it was rhetorical. “So what do we do?”

  Shin knelt in front of Breta and put a hand on her shoulder. “The Krievs’ family farm is off the northeast trade road, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” said Breta.

  “That’s not far,” said Shin. “I’ll drop Sally’s saddlebags and we can be ready to go in five.”

  “On yer feet, kid,” said Gnebnik. “We’re gonna need you to show us exactly where you last saw your brother and sister.” He glanced at an empty leather scabbard on her right hip. “And for gods’ sakes, where’s your dagger?”

  “One of the creatures bit my arm, and I dropped it,” she said, the glint of a tear in the corner of her eye.

  “Never drop yer weapon,” said Gnebnik. “Now let’s go.”

  Lee helped Breta to her feet, and the four of them were at the workshop three minutes later, Shin heading to the front gate to alert the city watch.

  “Now I get a sword and armor, right?” said Lee?

  “What? You’re not planning on going with them?” said Sam.

  “Children in danger? How could I say no?”

  “But we’re not trained! We’re not soldiers or hunters or heroes.”

  “Sam’s right,” said Gnebnik. “It’d be dangerous for you.”

  Sam glanced at Lee, at Gnebnik, and finally at Breta—a child of twelve. Who had been placed in charge of her younger brother and sister. He sighed deeply. “No. Lee’s right. We should help.”

  “Right,” said Gnebnik. “You ever swing a sword?”

  “No,” said Lee. “How hard can it be?”

  Gnebnik groaned, picked a slim mace from a weapons stand and handed it to Lee. “No time ta fit you for armor. Shield?”

  “I guess. Why not?”

  He handed a round shield to Lee, and a dagger to Breta. “Until we can get yours back.”

  “What about muskets? Why don’t we carry those?” said Sam.

  “You know how to reload?”

  “No.”

  Gnebnik handed Breta and Sam each a javelin. “Nice an’ light, good for jabbin’. Don’t throw it unless you have a spare.”

  “What sort of creatures were those things?” said Lee.

  “Moerko. Arboreal. Not from around here. They’re omnivores and they’re not known to be this aggressive. Must’ve been pushed out of their habitat by something stronger. It’s this damn war…”

  Shin darted about the corner, barely winded from the trip. “Only two men on watch at the main gate this morning, they can’t spare anybody. The rest are patrolling near the mine. Opposite direction of the farm.”

  “Right,” said Gnebnik. “Off we go.”

  Chapter 6

  Shin lifted Breta to the back of his mount and leapt on. Gnebnik mounted next, somewhat less gracefully. They set off, at a plodding pace within the narrow city streets, yet once the group passed through the front gate, the reptilian creature picked up the pace considerably. Sally seemed oblivious to the extra weight, the elongated saddle accommodating gnomes and small children as easily as cargo.

  Sam and Lee maintained a light jog to keep up with the creature’s long gait.

  T
errain around the city was hilly, nearly mountainous, dotted with a patchwork of compact terraced fields. The fields, some with stubby trees, some with pumpkin plants, faded in and out of sight as thick tendrils of fog swirled about the landscape like ghostly serpents. At times they could see many hundreds of paces along the winding path, yet they might round a bend to find one of the many little valleys filled with a thick soup of fog.

  “Why didn’t you give me a sword? You had plenty at your workshop. If I can swing this thing,” Lee said, giving the light mace a couple tentative swings. “Then I can swing a sword.”

  Shin flashed a subtle smile and suppressed a snork.

  Breta giggled. “You two don’t know anything, do you?”

  Gnebnik unsheathed his shortsword, which looked like a longsword for someone of his stature, handing it to Lee. “How sharp is it?”

  Lee ran a thumb along the edge. “Ouch. Very sharp I’d say. Isn’t that the whole point of a sword?”

  “How ’bout the flat of the blade?”

  “Huh?” said Lee.

  “How sharp is the flat?” said Gnebnik.

  “It’s not sharp at all. It’s the flat! That’s why it’s called the flat. I’m not stupid, what’s the point of this?”

  “Ya hit your foe with the flat an’ it’s not even as good as a club. Easy ta get it turned around in the heat of combat. Ya got a good arm, I’ll give you that. But until you learn proper edge control you’re better off with a club or a mace. Doesn’t matter how you hold it—connect and you’ll do some damage.”

  Lee grumbled and gave the mace a few more test swings.

  “Speaking of weapons, what are those?” asked Sam, pointing his long, slender javelin at a double row of trees to the left.

  “Prickly walnuts. Not the easiest to harvest and shell, but quite valuable,” said Shin. “Lots of nut trees grow well in the region. Hazelhearth does a little of everything, but I suppose orchards are our specialty.”

  The trees, which had been trimmed to a uniform height, had rough charcoal bark with steel-blue streaks, and bore clusters of immature nuts which indeed looked like weapons: kelly-green spheres the size of grapefruit with spines like a sea urchin.