“That’s one smart gal,” said Chéri.
“Right? That’s what I said!” Grimbledung hopped up and down.
“No, what you said to Julie was ‘if I told you that you had a great body for business, would you hold it against me?’ and then you waggled your ears at her.”
Grimbledung waggled his ears.
“That sound more like the Grimbledung I know.”
Grimbledung waved his hand dismissively, “Well, I meant it in the best way possible.” He moved back to the counter. “Say, it’s getting near lunchtime, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is,” said Chéri. She smiled. “And that means I need to go meet a certain deputy for lunch.”
Grimbledung waved. “Tell Col I send my regards.”
“Col?”
“Are you seeing a different deputy for lunch?” Grimbledung shook his head, “Not good form, that.”
“No, you silly Gnome. That’s who...”
“Get going, Chéri. Honestly, you’ll just end up being late,” interrupted Drimblerod. “Just wave and say goodbye.”
Chéri laughed. Then she waved. “Goodbye.”
As she turned to the door, Grimbledung waved as well. “Bye Chéri. Tell Col I’ll be investigating some privates and if I need his help, I’ll let him know.”
Chéri turned back around. “What?”
“You’ll be late. I’m just warning you now. You better be gone when I come back with the other wands,” he warned as he moved to the back of the shop.
“So I’m investigating privates you see...” Began Grimbledung.
Chéri looked from the door to the Gnome. She seemed trapped by the current line of conversation. Hoping to end it quickly if she changed the subject, she hefted the wand several times. “And how much will this thing pick up?”
“Well, more than you could pick up on your own, definitely. But it does have its limits.”
“Like what?”
“Well, you can’t pick up a mountain with it.” Grimbledung paused as he considered the question. “But a mountain ogre, sure.”
Chéri moved closer to the door. “Well, I just want to be able to pick up boards and planks and such...”
“Whole buildings?” Grimbledung interjected.
Chéri shook her head. “The Magicians have the dismantling figured out; it’s just the loading the wagon that’s still hands-on.
Grimbledung stuck out his tongue. “Manual labor. Yech.”
Chéri nodded. “My sentiments exactly. The only hands-on I do is for my work.”
Grimbledung stuck out his tongue again. “I see.” He smiled broadly. “SO you’re setting up a little homestead for you and Col, then?”
Chéri nodded.
“Nice, nice.” Grimbledung waggled his eyebrows at the Gnomess. “So you soon gonna be Chéri Belladonna Ossus?”
“That’s not how it works. You know that, right?” She moved her hand to the latch.
“Nope.” He waggled his eyebrows again.
Chéri sighed. She had hoped to get in and out of the shop without any long, drawn-out discussions. That hope seemed to be rapidly fading. Next time listen to Drimblerod. “If I did take his name, it would be his last name.”
Grimbledung nodded. “Ossus.”
“What?”
“Well, his name is Col Ossus, right?”
“No. His name is Colossus Basher.” She hoped that would be enough.
It wasn’t.
“Basher, huh? Never heard a Halfling’s last name. Is that typical?”
Chéri thought for a moment. Was it?
(It was.)
“Well, now that you mention it, first names of Halflings tend to be expressions of size, and family names tend to express a heroic action of some sort, or a quest maybe from their lineage.” She considered that. “Basher, Slayer, Marauder. And I even knew a Walker.”
“Knew?”
“He was Colossus’ close friend, Gigantus. His father went on a quest to the Great Northern Expanse to retrieve the Scythe of...” She paused for the briefest of moments. “Anyway, he didn’t make it.”
“Didn’t make it? To the Great Northern Expanse? I’m not surprised; that’s a really long walk.”
“No, he made it, his son, Colossus’ friend, Gigantus didn’t make it.”
“Oh?”
Chéri sighed. She was sure that at any moment, Drimblerod would return to the front of the shop and see her still entangled in conversation with his partner. “He died in the invasion.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” lied Grimbledung, “really I am.”
Chéri tucked the wand into her purse. “Well, it’s a hard life Halflings live. It’s just something you get used to.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“Well, now things have calmed down and you can work on that nice abode, and become Missus Chéri Belladonna Colossus Basher.”
Chéri sighed. If nothing else, it seemed like that should end the conversation. “Sure.”
It wouldn’t.
“Nice, nice. Well, if you’re going to have a big affair...” Grimbledung leaned over the counter, “And I really think you should, you know. You should let me plan it, you know. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s planning festivities of the large kind. They’re the talk of the town.” He waggled his ears. “You know.”
“No, I didn’t,” Chéri confessed. “Wait, didn’t you burn Aution to the ground with one of your festivities?”
“Yeah. And they’re still talking about it.” Grimbledung waggled his ears.
“Not in a good way, and not in Aution since it’s not around anymore.”
Drimblerod returned to the front of the shop. He had five wands in his hands. “Still at it?” He asked Chéri with a smirk. “Hard to stop once it gets going, isn’t it?”
Chéri nodded. She pushed down on the latch and pulled Door open slightly. “Well, I really have to run...” She began in the hopes Grimbledung would wave a farewell to her.
He wouldn’t.
“Well, most all of that wasn’t my fault you know,” said Grimbledung, “there’s details that definitely point to the fire starting in two places. One there on the main street of course, and another...” He looked around conspiratorially. “Another started by a gassy gnoll,” he said in hushed tones.
“I find that hard to believe...”
“You’ll be here all day, Chéri. Trust me on this. Pull the door open, go through it, and let it shut behind you.”
Chéri nodded at Drimblerod. “Fine, fine. But I’ll want the full story later.” She waved again and this time left the store.
“Oohh! Drimblerod!”
“What?”
“I’m starving,” moaned Grimbledung as he clutched his belly. “I didn’t even get a brunch to tide me over. No brunch in my belly.” He did a double take at the keg. “And I didn’t even have a drink!” He whined.
“Well, that just means there’s more for later.” Drimblerod finished putting the last of the wands on the shelves. “Let’s go to the farmer’s market and get some supplies.” He raised an eyebrow. “Once again, the week’s-worth of food lasted four days.”
“I think your idea of a week of food and my idea of a week of food are different things.” Grimbledung moved around the counter and towards Door.
“Economizing,” reminded Drimblerod. “We’re economizing because we’re low on coinage.” He moved to Door as well. “So we’ll quickly get stuff we can prepare here at the Shoppe because that’s less expensive than eating out all the time.”
“Fine, fine.” Grimbledung sulked. Door opened and let the pair out. “But can we get something that we can eat right away as well?”
“If there’s a butcher set up, we’ll see what sort of smoked meats they have out.”
“What if there’s no butcher? Last time I looked that shoppe was still empty!” Whined Grimbledung.
“One’ll show up. The town’s getting too big for it to not have a butcher se
t up. Word’s gotten out to the Merchant’s Guild and I’m sure they’re working on getting one here.”
“Why would they care?”
“More working butchers paying guild fees is better for the guild.”
“You know, guilds sound like a racket to make money for the people running the guilds and they never seem to really do anything to help the regular members.”
“Yep. Guilds and Unions both run by that same plan. It really works out well for them that are lining their pockets on the backs of them that actually work for a living.”[11]
“Gads. I need to start a guild.”
“Well, do it another day because we need to go to the market now.”
“To buy a fat pig?”
“Grim...”
“Then we’re home again? Home again? Jiggity Jig?”
“Don’t do it.”
“Or maybe we can buy a fat hog.”
“No pigs of any kind.”
Grimbledung frowned. “Well, then maybe I can buy a plum bun before the market’s done.”
“We’ll get some meat of some kind.”
Grimbledung thrust his hands in the air. “Whoo hoo! Smoked meats!”
“We’ll be back in a little bit, Door. You know the drill.”
Door rattled his latch at Drimblerod.
Chapter 24
Simply Supply Shopping
The two Gnomes left the shop and turned right, towards the twice-weekly farmer’s market. “So what’re we doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what’re we doing?” Asked Grimbledung. “The thing we are doing presently- what is it?”
“Doing a simple supply run.”
“Well sure; that part I know.”
“Then why’d you ask?” Drimblerod was already exasperated and they had just left the shop.
Grimbledung looked over his shoulder, then back at his partner. “Well, I’m just curious about this supply run...”
“It’s a simple one,” interrupted Drimblerod.
“... so we’re going to feed simple food to them gals?” He frowned. “Not sure if that’s going to get me where I want to be.”
“Well, we’ll feed them something else then. To make sure you get to where you want to be. Which, I will say right now, I do not want details of that location. Now, later, or ever.”
“So what’re we going to feed those females when they come by?” Grimbledung considered that for a moment. He skipped a few steps. “Or are we doing something fun like taking them out on the town?”
“We’re economizing so we can do a platter of meats, cheeses, and fruits from Nulu’s place.”
Grimbledung returned to walking. “That’s almost all the food groups.” He rubbed his belly. “Those are always yummy, yummy, yummy in my tummy.”
“No singing.” Drimblerod raised a finger. “Or dancing. Remember last time when they asked you to leave the market because of the song and dance routine you tried to do?”
“I swear, I thought everyone was going to join in once I started.”
“And the dancing on the merchant’s table?”
“I really thought...”
“No singing or dancing this time.” Drimblerod absently pointed left at the intersection towards the market.
“I mean, if even a couple of people had joined in, it would have been good enough to keep the authorities at bay,” said Grimbledung as the pair continued along. The market was in full force in the large intersection - the smaller of the two squares that had been established in town- just ahead.
Drimblerod laughed. “Well, I think that maybe your dancing just intimidated everyone so much they were afraid to join in”.
“I suppose I can tone it down next time.” Grimbledung shrugged. “So where do you see this going with these two females. I mean, a second meeting and tour of the shoppe with them seems like you’re getting serious in females all of a sudden. Yes?”
“Well you know, starting a family is something I’ve considered on and off,” admitted Drimblerod. “If the right gal came along.”
“What, you mean with kids and everything?”
“Well, those are what makes a family.” Drimblerod put his arm on his partner’s shoulder. “Settling down is moving higher on my list of things to do as the decades roll by.” The pair walked into the farmer’s market. Several merchants waved at the Gnomes. Since they came to the market every time it was going on, they were quickly recognized. Grimbledung’s dance routines didn’t hurt either. Mostly.
Grimbledung stuck out his tongue. “Kids are gross, though. They leak out of both ends when they’re infinks. Spill things as toddlers. Don’t listen when they’re youngsters. When they’re older, they call you names. Then as adults, they finally manage to move out, but then don’t have time for you because they’re making their own infinks because they didn’t learn the lesson while they were one because they were too close to the problem so they thought it was everyone else instead of them.”
“That’s a pretty strong opinion you got there.”
“The right ones usually are.”
“Well you know, Grim; you get used to kids.”
“Did I mention they were gross?”
“Yes. Twice so far.”
As the pair passed a cartload of fruit, an ancient looking Dwarf was sitting on the front of the wagon, furiously gnawing on a nectarine. Since he had no teeth, it just slid around on his gums. Grimbledung nodded at the Dwarf. “Mornin’ to you, Murphy. Nice to see you’re still around.”
The Dwarf nodded back. “Mornin’ sonny. Say...Mind startin’ this for me?” He held out the very damp piece of fruit.
“Sure thing.” Grimbledung took the fruit and bit down on it, breaking the skin. He handed it back to the Dwarf as he licked his lips. “There ya go.”
“And kids are gross.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said- kids are gross. Three times now,” agreed Grimbledung. He pointed at a large tent. “There goes the baker with his tray like always; the same old bread and rolls to sell. Every time it’s just the same, since the first morning that we came.”
“Well, there’s only so much you can do with bread,” offered Drimblerod.
“Ooh! The Cheese Monger’s beside him this time. We should go that way.” He began to lead his partner in that direction since Drimblerod still had his arm around over his shoulder.
“Well, how about you get cheese and bread and I’ll get fruits and vegetables.” He pointed at the other end of the market. “And I’ll meet you at Delberger in the middle. Then we’ll get some meats together.”
Grimbledung nodded. “That sounds good.”
“Do not climb up on Delberger or play in the fountain this time.”
The destruction of Aution had included almost all wooden structures, however several statues from town were salvaged and rededicated in Julesville. The one of Delberger pointing his Ruthless Hand at the heavens was among those saved. The fact that the statue was now blackened in places due to the fire just made it more appropriate. It had been placed in the center of a large stone reflecting pool. That now had a sign that read ‘No wading, fishing, or drinking. Not a toilet or a bidet.’
Thanks to various incidents by Grimbledung, extra planks had been added to it over time.
“Fine. Meet you at Delberger’s.” Grimbledung shrugged from under his partner’s arm and moved toward the Cheese Monger’s tent- a large aquamarine affair. Within ten paces of it, the smell was overwhelming to Grimbledung. Overwhelmingly delicious. He moved to one end of the long table that sat in front of the rectangular tent and began to pick up sample squares of cheese. He put them in his mouth as he moved down the long table, chewing as he went.
“Aren’t you even going to stop and taste those?” A familiar voice asked him from behind.
Grimbledung turned. He had a little square of cheese in each hand; he was waiting to swallow what he had in his mouth before adding any more. With a gulp, he pushed the mass of mixed cheeses into his
belly. “They taste like cheese,” he said to Mantodea.
“But each cheese tastes different.”
Grimbledung nodded. “Sure, but if you put them all together, they all combine to taste like cheese.” He popped both squares of cheese in his mouth and began to chew. “Cheesfm?” He pointed at the plate with the sample squares of cheese.
Mantodea shook her head. “I think I’ll pass.” She interlaced her arm with his. “But I’ll accompany you on your trek.”
Grimbledung nodded, “If you want. Just keep in mind cheese makes me gassy.” He turned and continued down the table, putting cheese in his mouth with his free hand.
“Then why do you...” started Mantodea. Then she decided to change the subject. To one she was much, much more interesting to her: “So how’s business?”
“Wah avata dooah smome econmomonizing,” he said around several chunks of chewed, half-chewed, and newly-introduced-to-his-mouth hunks of cheese.
“Why don’t you swallow all that first.” Mantodea waited patiently as the strange Gnome chewed furiously. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“We have to do some economizing” Grimbledung reached for a piece of cheese from the last plate on the table. “Is what Drimblerod says.”
“Economizing?” Mantodea was taken aback. From their research, Second-Hand Sorcery was the only wand shop in quite a large area- there was no way it couldn’t be making money. “Why is that?”
Grimbledung picked up another piece of cheese. Mantodea raised an eyebrow at him. He put it in his pocket for later. “Well, Drim said that we’ve been spending a lot of time doing other things besides selling wands.” He frowned. “Apparently Adventuring is bad for business.”
“Well, if you’re not running your business, that’s usually bad for business.”
“I’d have never guessed.”
Mantodea raised the other eyebrow.
“In any case, the word from Drimblerod is that we need to economize because there’s no money left in savings so we need to cut down on things that aren’t that important which is kind of a pain because I think my ale is important but he says that it isn’t important to running a wand shoppe so I can’t have it but I really like my pony kegs.” Grimbledung smiled. “Want to hear my pony keg song?” He cleared his throat.
A New Hope (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 4) Page 15
