Shadewell Shenanigans (5 page)

“No, Groan, we didn’t,” admitted Gordo. “Maybe they’ve moved in since we were there.” He turned to Gape and explained: “We were almost drowned at the hands of some bloody lunatic hermit, who thought he could get us back to the mainland in a boat made of shoe soles.”

Groan gave an enthusiastic nod. “Was a good laugh,” he muttered.

“Anyway,” Gordo continued, ignoring him, “Kazbrack is out past Rintintetly, just off the coast. At least we can kill two birds with one stone.” He turned to Gape. “I’m warning you, though: Kazbrack’s no pushover.”

Gape looked the dwarf up and down. “High wall, is there?”

“Funny.”

“Maybe we can give you a leg up, or even—wait a moment—I think I might have a catapult in my belt pouch!”

“Why don’t you shut the hell up, Gape Teethgrit!” Gordo snapped. “If you’re so clever, how come we found you in Stoke Punnit tied to a tree with two twigs up your nose?”

The barbarian shrugged. “I told you, I was ambushed.”

Gordo nodded. “By a ten-year-old girl.”

“There was more than one of them …”

“Oh, I see. How many, then? Two? Three?”

Gape shook his head. “More like ten, actually. They all had uniforms.”

“Oh, the Ganiskin Girl Guides! Yeah, I’ve heard of them; deadly with a headband, they are.”

“That’s it!” Gape leaped to his feet and snatched up his swords. “I don’t have to listen to any of this rubbish; I’m a world-renowned mercenary!”

“No,” Gordo said, dangling his legs over the bench. “You’re a mediocre warrior who’s lucky enough to own two enchanted swords that never miss.”

“Yeah,” Groan echoed, but his little companion quickly turned on him.

“And you can’t talk, Groan Teethgrit. You’ve got the IQ of a bacon sandwich; I’ve seen
plants
that think faster than you.”

“Oh, yeah?” the barbarian exclaimed. “What
ones
?”

Gordo sighed deeply and held up his hands for calm. “Listen,” he said. “The fact I’m trying to get through to you both is that we’ll be so much stronger if we all pull together.”

Gape sheathed his swords. He still didn’t look convinced, but at least, Gordo reflected, he wasn’t leaving.

“Only one of us can take them treasures,” Groan muttered. “The princess can’t marry four o’ us.”

“Agreed.” Gordo nodded, wondering who the other two were. “But until we
find
each treasure, surely it’s best if we form a team. You know, a fighting unit.”

There was a moment of contemplation. That is, Gape stood in silent agreement while Groan contemplated. Gordo fancied that he could actually hear the heavy gears of the barbarian’s mind turning.

“All right wiv me,” he said eventually. “Long as I get firs’ watch when we camp.”

“I’ll go second!” Gordo cut in quickly.

“Fine,” said Gape, extending his chiseled jaw. “I can’t sleep after four anyway. Where are we going first?”

Gordo swung himself off the seat and snatched up his battle-axe. “Rintintetly,” he confirmed with a grin. “As I said before, it’s the nearest. I’m going to the library to find some info on the place, then we can get going. You two better wait here. Okay?”

There was a vague murmur of agreement as the dwarf gave a satisfied nod and waddled off toward the keep.

Gape waited until the dwarf had disappeared inside the building before he turned to Groan, and with a slight wave of his hand, indicated the barbarian’s sword.

“Good blade, brother,” he observed.

“Yeah, ’tis,” Groan agreed.

“What d’you think of mine?” Gape drew both weapons in one smooth motion and spun them in a symmetrical arc.

“Rubbish,” said Groan.

Gape swallowed, counted to ten under his breath, and then exhaled. “Is that a fact?”

“Yeah, ’sright.”

“Well, let me tell you something, Mr. I’ve Got A Big Broadsword That’s About As Sharp As My Intellect, neither of these two beauties ever miss.”

“Ha! My armpit.”

Gape grinned. “Think what you will, dense brother of mine. It’s like your midget says: they’re enchanted.”

“’Sluck.”

“It’s not luck, Groan. We went through all this as kids, remember? They’re enchanted. I found them in the base of a magic oak tree, and they were glowing with supernatural force. Uncle Nap said they were enchanted, the chief said they were enchanted, even Dad said they were enchanted—and he didn’t believe in sorcery! So you’re just going to have to accept it, aren’t you? I have a pair of magic swords, and you don’t.”

“’Sluck.”

“They’re enchanted, damn you!”

Groan shook his head. “’Sluck.”

“Okay, fine,” Gape muttered. “Have it your way.

There was a moment of silence, in which Groan smiled inwardly and Gape felt that every muscle in his body was about to burst.

“’S jus’ luck,” Groan muttered again, pushing the argument to the breaking point.

“Fine,” Gape said. “But if it’s luck, dear brother, then how come neither of these beauties has missed a single target in twenty years?”

“Prove it,” Groan sniffed, squinting in the sunlight that flooded the gardens. “I bet you couldn’ ’it that ol’ woman over there what’s hangin’ out ’er washin’.”

There was no thinking involved, not even the slightest moment of doubt. Gape simply spun on his heels and launched both swords into the air.

When Gordo Goldeaxe emerged from the Phlegm Keep library, he had a very bad feeling in his stomach. There were two reasons for this: the first had to do with the hideously frightening information he’d discovered while researching Rintintetly; the second, which was definitely more pressing, involved the vast crowd that had gathered in the square, seemingly around Groan Teethgrit and his insufferable brother. Gordo had known Groan for ten years, ample time to learn that people tended to veer
away
from the giant barbarian at all costs, and never, under any circumstances, gathered around him … unless something really bad (and thus extremely watchable) had happened.

Gordo determinedly elbowed his way through the crowd, and almost fell over the elderly woman who lay on the cobbles with two very familiar-looking swords sticking out of her chest.

“An absolute bloody animal!” one man was saying.

“An outrage!” added another. “He just murdered her for no reason.”

Gape Teethgrit was on his knees beside the old woman, sobbing his heart out. Behind him, several of the more gutsy members of the crowd were arming themselves with clubs and maces. They were deterred from venturing farther, however, by the towering figure of Groan, who was standing, arms folded, behind his brother.

“You’re right ’bout them swords,” he was saying to Gape’s convulsing shoulders. “How much d’you want for ’em?”

“Oh my gods,” Gape cried, hands cupped over his face. “What have I done?”

“They boaf ’it ’er at the same time,” Groan observed. “Tha’s good workmanship, that is. I wond’r who made ’em?”

“Oh, may the heavens forgive m—”

“Excuse me, please, I’m a healer.”

The stirring crowd parted to reveal a dwarf in a priest’s robe. Groan recognized his friend straight away, but there were a lot of dwarves in Phlegm, and those in the crowd were not familiar enough with Gordo to recognize his waddle.

A hushed silence descended on the crowd as Gordo shoved Gape aside and bent down to examine the corpse. He spent a few seconds removing the enchanted blades, then appeared to study the two wounds in greater detail. Eventually, he turned to the crowd.

“I’m afraid this woman is suffering from something we healers call Attracticus Enchantia,” he began, to an applause of gasps. “Meaning that, through no fault of her own, she is prone to attract enchanted swords.”

There ensued some huddled conversation, and a crowd spokesman was nudged forward.

“I’ve never heard of it,” he said doubtfully.

Several of his coconspirators muttered an agreement.

“Ah, well, it’s quite rare,” Gordo continued, trying to keep the hood, which was three sizes too big for his head, in place. “It’s a form of animal magnetism, you see …”

The crowd spokesman cocked his head to one side and regarded the woman. “Well, it’s not workin’ on me,” he said.

There was an outbreak of giggles, during which Groan ambled over to Gordo and tapped him on the head. “’Ere, where d’you get that ’ood from?”

“Shhhh! Keep quiet; can’t you see I’m working, here? CAN SOMEBODY PLEASE SEND FOR A MORTUARIST?”

The crowd pushed and shoved each other for a bit, then disgorged a small boy to fetch the local corpse cart.

“Very good,” Gordo shouted, giving them a “thumbs-up” sign. “Now, can this lady please have some privacy?”

Slowly but surely, the crowd began to ebb away, and, at length, the mortuarist arrived to collect the body.

“Excuse me,” Gape said to the man, still shaking with grief. “Do you know who this woman is, er, was?”

The mortuarist took a long, careful look at the woman. “It’s Reeny Shand,” he confirmed, chewing on his cheeks. “Wicked ol’ girl, she was. Just got outta the dungeon for turnin’ a load of kids to stone. Finally got her comeuppance, did she?”

“Y-yes, I suppose so,” Gape sniffled. “Does she have any family?”

The mortuarist shook his head. “No husband, no kids, but there’s a cat who won’t be best pleased.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.”

Gape, Groan, and Gordo watched as Reeny was loaded into the cart and wheeled away.

“What a terrible tragedy,” Gape mumbled, looking at his hands as if they didn’t belong to him.

“You’re right ’bout that,” chimed Groan. “
I
shoulda found them swords.”

Gape reached down and carefully picked up his blades. “Er … thanks, Gordo,” he said awkwardly.

“Yeah, well … whatever,” said the dwarf, and snatching back his hood, he called after the mortuarist: “Oi, there’s a priest down that side alley you might wanna take a look at!”

When he turned back, two pairs of eyes were locked on him.

“What? I had to get the hood from somewhere, didn’t I? And while I’ve got your attention, may I remind you both that we are supposed to be on a vital quest to win the hand of a princess? Now, do forgive me if I’m wrong, but I can’t see how using an old lady for target practice is gonna help our cause. So let’s forget about whether I may or may not have killed a priest, and let’s get on with the mission!”

There was a general murmur of agreement, but Gordo couldn’t help but look wretched. He peered back toward the alley, and was about to make another excuse for his own attack on the rector, when a jangling noise shook him from his reverie.

“Um, excuse me—”

Groan turned, frowned. “’Scuse you what?” he demanded gruffly.

A knight in purple pantaloons, with coiffured blond hair and large, hooped earrings had strolled into the small triangle of ground between the three warriors.

Gape had been about to tell the stranger to get lost, when he’d noticed, to his intense astonishment, that the man was filing his nails.

“Can we help you with something, Mr.—?” Gordo hazarded, leaning on his battle-axe with an “I’m-gonna-take-no-nonsense” expression on his face.

“Sir Herbert Lavelle DuBree, at your service. I was in the courtyard earlier today, and I heard about your—hem—most noble quest.”

Gordo rolled his eyes. “Right, well listen, Sherbert—”

“HERBERT.”

“
Whatever.
We’re not interested—”

“—in an enchanted treasure map? What, really? Oh, okay; that’s fine, then. Forget I ever offered to sell you one. Good day, people.”

The knight turned, his heels clicking together as he sauntered away. He managed to get about three yards before Gape dragged him back.

“Enchanted, you say?” Gordo prompted, licking his lips and glancing significantly at Groan.

“I
do
say, and enchanted it
is.
Shows you the location of every treasure ever buried by mortal hands.”

“How much d’you want for it?”

Herbert sniffed a few times, then gave the most pathetic sneeze Gordo had ever heard. It sounded like a mouse squeaking.

“Twenty crowns to you fine gentlemen,” he said. “And please don’t bother to haggle—I’m not known for my flexibility.”

“You sure?” said Gape, eyeing him dubiously.

The knight ignored the comment and held out his hand expectantly.

“What?” Gordo said, starting. “You expect us to cough up twenty crowns, just like that?”

There was a premature silence, then Gordo produced a pouch from his belt and slammed it so viciously into Herbert’s outstretched hands that the knight gave a tiny whimper.

“Bloody mercenaries,” he muttered under his breath, pulling a scroll from his pantaloons and passing it across to the dwarf. “Don’t recognize a good deal when it hops up and bites their
argghghhh
!”

Gordo, who’d grabbed the knight’s wrist instead of the map, pulled the man’s face close to him.

“If this thing doesn’t work,” he snarled. “We’ll find you.”

He shoved Herbert back onto the dusty ground and waited while the knight crawled away on his knuckles. Then he turned to the brothers Teethgrit and smirked. “Result!” he mouthed. “We got ourselves a magic treasure map!”

“I
’M TELLING YOU STRAIGHT,
Bronwyn, I’m not marrying either of those cretins, and that’s all there is to it. I don’t care what my father says.”

Princess Susti slammed the heavy oak door of her private chamber, then tore off her ceremonial headdress and threw it across the room.

Her lady-in-waiting ducked. “Then why did you set the challenge, milady?”

“I didn’t! Father came to my chamber this morning, said it was time I got married, and fed me some rubbish about the fate of the kingdom being in great peril if I didn’t oblige! The old fool was practically in tears, Bronwyn. What could I say?”

“I’m sure you did what you had to do, milady.”

“Right, exactly! And did you listen to that awful speech he made me reel off? All that rot about ‘when I was young …’ Ha! When
I
was young,
I
used to pull the legs off spiders! Let him stick that in his speech!”

She unclasped her headband and let out her long, silky brown locks. “You know why he’s doing this, don’t you?”