“That should about do it. Ready?”
RatShambler nodded at the man. “Thanks for your help.”
“No, thank you and your Gnome friends. I owe you a couple of drinks some time down the road.”
“Deal” RatShambler smiled a toothy grin. “On your marks.” He crouched down as if he were ready to start a sprint.
Joachim raised the wand
Swifter than Eagles.
Faster than a bear!
Some Gazzelitis will get this Shambler there!
He intoned.
“Nice.”
Joachim didn’t respond lest he damage the incantation. Instead, he slashed the wand at RatShambler. A dull gold glow infused into his legs.
“Whoo hoo!” Said RatShambler as he sprung forward at incredible speed.
An hour and a half later, RatShambler was galloping into Julesville. Drimblerod had thrown up twice along the way.
On RatShambler.
Back at the cliff, Joachim looked around at his men. Many were kneeling near a dead soldier, prepared to pick them up personally. All of the dead are going home. He sighed with relief. “Excellent work. Relay my thanks to all the men,” he said. “Let’s get to Prost Garrison and see how things have fared there.”
Chapter Eleven
Drimblerod and RatShambler
Return to Julesville
RatShambler galloped into Julesville –at his normal, non-magical pace. Drimblerod had begun to stir in the last few minutes but had not regained consciousness enough to even complain about being tied down. It was only midday yet the streets were deserted; everyone was fully expecting the Halfling army to overwhelm Captain Frank’s forces and then, roll over the town as well. He looked left and right then decided to go to Big Julies’ not only was she in charge of the town, she invariably had a plan of action that was worth doing.
As he got to the door of the windmill, he paused and looked at the two empty pedestals where the Gargoyles had been perched for so long. He had seen at least two Gargoyles succumb to the blows from a dozen Halflings but wasn’t sure what it really took to kill something made of stone. I hope they can just put them back together again.
With a sigh, he banged his hoof against the door. After a few moments, he stepped back and looked up at the structure. “Hello!”
After another long pause, he snorted and moved towards the cafeteria. “Should have gone here first,” he said to the deserted street. When he got to the door, he lowered his head and pressed against the swinging doors. They were locked. Once again, he hit his hoof against the door. Harder than before. “Hello!”
‘That you Rat?’ he heard a voice from behind the door.
“Yes, it’s me!”
“Who else with ya?”
“I’ve got Drimblerod and he’s hurt. Open the door and go get Julie!” He hit his hoof against the door again. Even harder.
RatShambler could hear several hasps being drawn back. Finally, the door pulled open. A young Dwarf stuck his head out and looked around. “No one else?”
RatShambler pushed past the student-cum-guard. “Guthrie, go get the doctor and make it quick,” he said to the youth as he entered the main cafeteria.
“Lunchtime?” Murmured Drimblerod as he looked up. “I’ll just have something light.” His head slumped down again.
“Julie! Klank! Bonk! ANYONE!” RatShambler called as he moved back and forth.
Julie burst through the door to the room above the cafeteria. “Rat!” She took the stairs two at a time. “I was so worried! Is everyone...” Her voice trailed off as she saw Drimblerod lashed to his back. Her eyes got wide. “Is he...”
RatShambler shook his head, “No. I sent your door guard for the doctor. He’ll be all right. The problem’s with...” RatShambler’s voice warbled.
“Where is Grimbledung?”
RatShambler lowered his head. “He fell.”
“He’s dead?” Julie staggered back and sat on a stair. “How?”
“He fell from the wall of Frank’s Keep.”
Julie wrung her hands together. “The fall killed him?”
RatShambler raised his head as he realized what Big Julie was asking. “No, Julie, that didn’t... He’s not dead.”
“Not dead?”
“At least not yet.”
Julie stood back up.
“Where is Grimbledung?”
“He fell off the wall and the Halfling’s got him. The last time Drimblerod saw him, they were carrying him away as their prisoner.”
Julie sat back down again. “That’s probably worse.”
RatShambler nodded. “Listen, Julie. I don’t want to be indelicate here, but,” he gestured with his head towards Drimblerod. “I’d really like to get him off me.”
Julie nodded as she moved beside him and started to untie the ropes. Her hands recoiled. “Oh my.”
“Yes. He had a little accident or two on the way here.”
“I’ll get a couple of buckets of water and meet you out front,” suggested Julie.
“I would appreciate that.” RatShambler turned and pushed his way through the swinging doors. When he got to the street, he saw the Dwarfling leading the town doctor in his direction. He let out a sigh of relief. A wave of exhaustion washed over him. He sat back on his haunches. The doctor made it to him just as Julie pushed past the doors sideways with two very large buckets. Water sloshed out of them as she waddled toward them.
The doctor moved to RatShambler. “Don’t work on beasts.”
“I’m just the means of delivery, Doc. The patient is lashed to my back.” He eyed the doctor. “Beast?”
The doctor shrugged. “Four legs bad, two legs good. That’s my rule.”
“What about Minotaur? And Golems? And Trolls?”
Now the doctor eyed RatShambler. “Oh my. Shouldn’t you be mute? Never heard of a talking Shambler before.”
“I’m usually a rat.”
“Right, because that explains everything.” The doctor shook his head and moved to RatShambler’s side. “Well, looks like this fellow was well fed.” He looked at Big Julie. “Might I relieve you of one of those buckets?”
“Here you go doctor. I’ll go find some students willing to give Rat a good bath and brushing.”
The doctor shrugged. “If that’s what you want to do.”
“You don’t have much of a bedside manner, Doc.”
The doctor didn’t look at RatShambler as he examined Drimblerod. “Quiet animals. That’s what I like,” he muttered as he took a step back and heaved the bucket at Drimblerod. Not letting go of the handle, the water sloshed at Drimblerod with a bit of force. It hit him from the waist up, washing off most of the vomit. Without ceremony, he dropped the bucket and repeated the process with the other one. “Good enough,” he remarked. “Now...” He leaned in close and began a thorough examination of the Gnome.
After a few minutes, Big Julie came out with several students in town. “Got a crew to get you looking sharp, Rat.” She paused. “Wouldn’t it be better if they washed you as a rat?”
“No Grimbledung.”
“Drat. Sorry, Rat. I wasn’t thinking.” She turned to the students. “This fine animal is a very good friend and he’s been through a lot, so if you would walk him over to the stables and give him a good scrubbing and brushing, I’d be most appreciative.”
The students - four of them- nodded. “Sure thing Miss Julie,” said another Dwarfling.
“So do you give them extra credit for doing this? Like maybe to their house or something?”
“House?”
“Yeah, you know; you sort the students when they arrive into different houses so they compete against each other for different things. Earn credits and demerits. That sort of thing.”
“Right, because I don’t have enough problems with bullying and cliques without making up my own reasons to have them torment each other right from the start.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine that working out well. Former heads of rival houses
showing up, causing problems, trying to take over the place. Kids would get hurt. Or worse.”
“You two done discussing how schools should be organized and want to hear what I have to say?”
“Sure, Doc, sorry.”
“You know that’s not my name, right?”
“What?”
“My name’s Bernard. You keep calling me Doc.”
“Well, you are a doctor. I was just shortening it to be amicable.”
“Should I just call you Head then?”
Big Julie frowned. “What’s the prognosis, Bernard.”
“Broken arm. Broken leg. Both the left ones. Some ribs seem kind of squishy. Head seems okay though.”
“So nothing too serious then. That’s good to hear.”
“Well, a broken leg can be fatal. Lots of veins in there that can get cut by broken bones. Folks bleed out on the inside and you never see it coming. It’s a good thing he was tied down tight.”
Big Julie blanched. “Gads!”
“Don’t worry, Head. I can take care of your friend.”
Big Julie narrowed her eyes at the doctor. “You know, I know this really big guy who’ll do pretty much anything I want...”
“What? He gonna beat me up?”
“He’ll stuff you under the foundation of one of the buildings he’s putting up here in town.” Big Julie gestured around. “Lots of construction going on. Plenty of foundations going in, Bernard. So get my friend back together and send me the bill. And be quiet about it.”
“Quiet as a beast,” offered RatShambler.
The doctor harrumphed as he dropped the bucket. He drew a dagger with one hand and a wand with the other. “Cut him loose as I keep him stable. I’ll float him over to the clinic nice and steady like.” He offered Big Julie the dagger hilt first and aimed his wand at Drimblerod. With a flick of his wrist, Drimblerod lifted slightly off of RatShambler. “Ready.”
Big Julie cut the ropes holding Drimblerod in place. “All set. Kids? Can you take care of this mighty Shambler?
“Will you tell another tale of high adventure while we’re washing you?” Asked Guthrie.
“That I can.”
With squeals of delight, the kids and RatShambler trotted towards the stables. “I’ll catch up!” Said Guthrie.
“Here you go Doc. Please take care of my friend. He’s been through a lot.” She flipped the dagger over in her hand and offered it back hilt first.
Out of habit, the doctor wiped it on his pants before putting it back in its sheath. “I’ll have him up in a couple of days. One if he’ll be willing to use a crutch.”
Big Julie nodded at the man. “Good.” She noticed that the doctor still hadn’t addressed her by her name. “Bill me, Bernie.”
“You got it, Jules.”
As Big Julie turned and walked back into her school, she was wondering if her two go-to artists, Danni and Nikki, would be willing to make up signs advertising for a new town doctor. And if Pinky was working on any buildings with especially thick foundations. “Where are the friendly, caring doctors you always hear about?” She said as she pushed through the swinging doors. Julie looked down at the Dwarfling that had followed her back in. “There any doctors in your family?”
“Got six uncles, Miss Julie. I think one of them is a Doc.”
“Tell him we’re in the market. There’s got to be a competent and friendly doctor out there somewhere.”
“Sure thing, Miss Julie,” the Dwarfling fidgeted.
“Go get your story, Guthrie; I’ve got the doors.”
With a ‘woop’ of glee, the Dwarfling scampered in the direction the others had just gone.
“Kids.” Julie shook her head. “Not sure if I’m ready for those.”
Chapter Twelve
Doctor Doc Marone
The Corpsman paced back and forth; he had been doing so since first light. He would have been doing it since the Gargoyles and, as he had heard, several Golems had ridden out of Prost Garrison, but he had been fast asleep then. Until casualties arrived, medical personnel were allowed to sleep so they would be rested when they were called upon. Since he had woken up however, he had been on high alert. A flash of light drew his attention to the hastily erected platform that acted as a predetermined target for the Evacuata Corpsus Delicti spell. “Doc! There’s a human out on the platform. A huge one!”
“You don’t say. With the battle that’s supposed to have happened, just one?”
“There’s a Gargoyle with him,” added the Corpsman.
“A Gargoyle? Dammit, I’m a doctor, not a mason. Whad’m I supposed to do with a Gargoyle?”
The Corpsman leaned into the window of the small infirmary. “No, these two look healthy. Maybe you should get out here.”
Doc Marone put down his parchment and drank the last of his coffee in one swallow. He stood shakily. “Some fresh air would be nice.” He stretched his hands to the ceiling as he made his way to the door, walking on his tiptoes. “And maybe some more coffee as well.” He reached down and pulled the door open. As he stepped through, a very large human crowded him.
“You the doc?”
“That’s me,” said the doctor as he squeezed by the man. As soon as he got past him, he bumped up against a stone wall. “What the?”
“There’s casualties coming, doc,” said the stone wall. “You the doctor?”
Doc Marone looked up. “Gads. I’ve never been this close to a Gargoyle.” He craned his neck even more, “They run out of stone making you?”
Reuben chuckled. “Not completely, doc.” He stepped back several paces to give the human some breathing room. “Sorry.”
“Doctor Marone...” began the Human as he put his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“The name’s Doc,” corrected Doc Marone.
Tiny blinked. “It’s short for ‘doctor’ though, right?”
The human shook his head. “No. My parents just named me Doc. Liked the sound of it, I suppose.”
“But you are a doctor, right?” The Gargoyle asked again. “We don’t have time to go looking for a doctor.” It glanced nervously at the platform.
Doc Marone nodded, “Sure, sure; I’m the doctor here. But I was called that long before I was ever planning on being a doctor. It just kind of worked out well for me.” He shrugged. “I just don’t want any confusion when people call me Doc, that’s all.” He stretched again. “So what can I do for you two fellows?” He looked over the large Human. He looked haggard and bloodied but overall, in decent enough health. “You look in decent enough health,” he remarked.
“Not the ones coming” Tiny put his arm on the doctor’s shoulder and led him to the platform where he had just appeared. “There’s wounded heading this way.”
“Wounded?”
“Lots of wounded. The dead will take a little longer to get here ‘cause they’re coming with the troops.”
The doctor looked at his Corpsman. “Lots,” he repeated in case the man hadn’t heard. “Round up the volunteers.” There were a dozen soldiers who had been tasked as bearers to ensure that if the need arose, there were people prepared to accomplish the task.
With a nod the Corpsman hurried off.
“Right, Doc, and we have to make sure that we’re prepared to move them to where they can get helped. Some are in bad shape.”
“So, what a dozen or so? How many...” A flash of light interrupted him. The trio looked at the platform. There were five bloody Humans on it. One moaned as he tried to roll off the platform.
The doctor let out a relieved sigh. “Is that it then?”
Tiny shook his head. “We need to move them before the others arrive.” He jumped onto the platform and pulled the men off one at a time. When he had them off, Reuben grabbed them with a claw and dragged them farther away. “We got hundreds coming, Doc. So you better get to your work.”
“Hundreds?” The doctor gaped at the wounded men. That would tax his small infirmary to its limits. He turned towards the Garrison’s Sergea
nt at Arms who had moved to see who the two interlopers were. “Get all your men down here!” Ordered Doc Marone. “We’ve got hundreds of wounded showing up and they’re all going to need help!”
The Sergeant at Arms stepped back. “Hundreds?”
In a flash, the platform was filled with another five wounded. Tiny and Reuben dragged them off.
“Yes, hundreds of wounded. Hundreds out there. None in here.” He narrowed his eyes at the Sergeant at Arms, not trying to hide the accusation at all. “And the dead are coming after!” He said as he turned to the Gargoyle. “I’m doing to do my work out here, Mister... ahh, Sir...”
“Just Reuben is fine,” offered Reuben.
“Reuben. So get them lined up and we’ll see what we can do for them.” He looked around quickly “Corpsman!” He shouted. “Line them up and keep them still. And do not give them anything to drink. I’ll be right back.” He turned and ran into what had just become a woefully inadequate infirmary. Hurriedly, he gathered vials and sacks of medicinal herbs and potions. “There’s not nearly enough,” he said to his empty room. He looked around helplessly. “Nowhere nearly enough.” He moved to the door and squeezed through it- it had pushed partially closed but not completely. “Corpsman!” He yelled again. He turned to look at the platform as it flashed again. Another five men -apparently that was the limit of the spell that was being used- appeared on it. “Corps...” he started as he turned to look along the building. There were at least fifty wounded laying side by side along the wall in the morning shade. Some were moving, others only moaning. Still more were alarmingly still. The site took his breath away. “We need help.” He said to no one in particular.
“Doc! We’re going to start a new row with space in between them,” said Reuben. “Is that all right?”
The doctor nodded weakly. It was definitely not all right. All these wounded, with the dead not yet arrived and yet, hundreds of perfectly healthy soldiers sat in the Prost Garrison. “Hundreds of perfectly healthy soldiers?”
Here's Looking For You, Grim (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 3) Page 7
