Priestess of War (The Bowl of Souls Book 10), page 18
“Corntown boys.” The old dwarf shook his head. “Traditionally, there are three rounds. First two, we fire off at a judge. The third round, we go at each other.”
“Fair ’nough,” Lenui said with a brusque nod. “We go at Dinnis first.”
“Very well,” Bill said. The old dwarf faced the Academy graduate and took a draw of his pipe as he thought about it. “You, son, are an out-of-control, caterwauling bed-wetter!”
Dinnis blinked. “I-I don’t wet the-.”
“Just judge!” Lenui barked. “And yer also a lilly-livered corn-swillin’ rooster-nugget!”
“And a self-flagellating whimplepuss!” Bill added.
“A baby-faced, arse-sniffin’ corn-shucker!”
Bill pursed his lips. “A limp-wristed, turkey giblet with road apple gravy.”
Lenui chuckled despite himself. “That was a good one. Oh. My turn. Dinnis, yer a toe-chewin’, corn-grindin’ tickle-fairy!”
Dinnis frowned, red faced. “These sound more like insults than curses.”
Bill patted his shoulder. “That’s part of it, son. Now you judge. Who won?”
“I don’t like either of you much right now,” the swordsman replied. “But I’d say Lenny won.”
“Ha! I tell you it was over before it started,” Lenui bragged.
“I was just warming up. Round two,” said Bill calmly.
Lenui walked around the fire to face Swen. “Yer a horse-faced, stank-fingered, lackawilly!”
Old Bill strolled to Lenui’s side and removed the pipe from his mouth. “You are a bow-licking, flibberty-wicket with a loose goiter.”
“Pfft! He’s a stone-faced, apple-grindin’, puffle-wagon!”
Bill inclined his head. “Went way back for that one, didn’t you?” He sniffed at the bowman. “I declare you to be a blank-eyed, moon-gazing, willy-whittler.”
“I already used willy!” Lenui declared. “And he’s a weed-chewin’, squint-eyed, rock-wiper!”
“I used it better,” Bill reasoned. “And he’s a straight-backed, pissle-puncher with an arrow fetish!”
They could hear Helmet Jan’s cackle from the trees at that one.
“Alright. Round over. Who won?” Lenui asked.
A single tear rolled down Swen’s cheek.
Old Bill paused. “Swen, son. You know we don’t really feel that way about you. It’s just a competition.”
“He’s fine!” Lenui said.
Swen sniffed, but his voice sounded no different than usual. “It is not what you said. You were just reminding me of my grandmother.” The tall man wiped the wetness from his cheek with the back of his hand. “I declare Bill the winner of this round.”
Lenui scowled at the archer and faced Old Bill. “Round three then! Yer a doe-eyed, baby-lipped, purple-nosed, crack-pickin’, dangle-sack!”
“You, sir, are an ankle-biting, bare-chinned, pickle-brained, tackle-smacker,” Bill replied.
So he was going for age, eh? Lenui fired back. “Droop-nippled, jiggle-handed, saggy-britches!”
The old dwarf blinked. “You are a finger-burning, lack-whit, who uses a fork for a spoon.”
Lenui’s lips twisted at the slam on his cooking and went for a low blow of his own. “Yer a prune-dippin’, half-squatin’, soup-gummer in line fer a coffin!”
The old dwarf’s eyes narrowed. “You are a no-talent, numb-tongued, over-spicing, hammer-bender!”
Lenui bared his teeth. “Limp-noodled, brittle-boned, dirt-farmer who fights with a tiny hatchet!”
Bill spat at Lenui’s feet. “Empty-headed, anvil-dropping, sword-cracker!”
Lenui sputtered and kicked dirt over the old dwarf’s spittle. “Gray-haired, double-caner who needs help combin’ his beard!”
The old dwarf went for the throat. “Cotton-eared, cold-forging, over-priced, tin merchant!”
“Why you-.” As Lenui delivered his last volley, he stepped in closer with each taunt, enunciating every syllable until the two dwarves’ foreheads were only an inch apart. “Half-blind. Candy-arsed. Droopy-diapered. Granny-sniffin’. Wrinkle-taster!”
Old Bill’ reared back and head-butted Lenui right in the nose. Lenui’s head was rocked back, sparks floating in his vision. He stumbled to the side. “Ha! You lose!”
“Are you alright, Lenny?” Swen asked. “You seem about to fall over.”
“I never fall over, dag-blast it!” Lenui declared and stood still, forcing away the darkness that was trying to invade the edges of his vision. He pointed a steady finger at Old Bill. “I won.”
“You’re bleeding,” said Dinnis in surprise.
“I don’t bleed,” Lenui said and reached up to touch his nose. He felt a stab of pain and his finger came away bloody. He felt his nose again, this time more tenderly. “You broke my dag-gum nose . . .”
“I-I’m sorry for that,” Bill said, his face red. “You won. You beat me soundly.”
Lenui laughed out loud. “Holy hell, you broke my dag-blasted nose!”
“That was wrong of me,” Bill said.
“No!” Lenui said, still laughing. “You don’t get it. I never broke a single bone in my gad-flamed life. My friends and I used to punch each other in the face fer fun. No one could ever break my nose.”
Bill blinked. “I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to say.”
“So you got my gall-durn respect is what I’m sayin’!” He clapped the old dwarf on the shoulder. “Old Bill, the legend! Hoo-wee! It’s good to see the dwarf comin’ back out of you!”
A smile spread across Bill’s lips. “I suppose that curse fight did bring me back to my younger days. I haven’t head-butted anyone in decades.”
“What happened to you, Bill?” Lenui asked. “Too much time spent with Khalpan elves?”
The old dwarf sighed. “Being bonded changes a person I suppose. And being away from my people this long . . . maybe I’ve become too sensitive to things that didn’t used to bother me so much back in the day.”
“Uh, guys!” said Helmet Jan. She backed into the firelight, her pike held out in front of her. “I don’t get it, but I think we have a fight on our hands.”
Swen and Dinnis stood, raising their weapons in their hands. Lenui and Bill soon followed suit, hammer and hatchet at the ready.
Following her, but stopping at the edge of the firelight, were two wolves, a bear, three trolls, and perhaps most strangely of all, a goblin. It wore long pants and a ruffled white shirt under a dark overcoat.
The goblin pointed a clawed finger and spoke in a shrill voice. “Leave this place or die. The great evil has come!”
Chapter Twelve
“A dressed up goblin?” said Lenui in disbelief as everyone readied their weapons. “Swen, shoot one of ’em. Scare ’em off.”
Swen nocked an arrow on his smaller recurve bow.
“Don’t fire quite yet!” said Old Bill. “Not unless they attack!”
“But those are trolls,” Dinnis said. The swordsman had already grabbed a dry branch and plunged it into the fire.
He was right. There were definitely three trolls standing just outside the firelight, but they weren’t attacking. Even more strangely, they were standing next to a bear and two wolves that were also not moving. Trolls didn’t care what their prey was as long as it was living. They should have pounced on the other creatures first thing.
“That goblin talked ’bout a great evil,” Lenui pointed out. “Maybe it’s talkin’ ’bout-.”
“Leave or die!” the goblin insisted, his yellow eyes wide and sinister. “The evil will have you!”
The wolves growled. The bear roared. The trolls hissed.
Lenui pulled one of his throwing hammers from a loop at his belt. He had two of them. They were a new weapon he had designed and he was eager to try them out.
He asked Old Bill, “You think these things are controlled by that evil in the mountains?”
“I would say there’s definitely magic involved.” Bill replied. “But I think they’re just trying to scare us off. This close to-.”
“Then die!” the goblin cried and the animals attacked.
The wolves darted for Helmet Jan. They were large gray creatures, with thick pelts and snarling muzzles. She leveled her pike and speared one of them down the gullet. The other one kept coming and she swung her foot up, booting it under the chin.
This only delayed it momentary. The wolf shook its head and lunged just as Swen’s bow twanged. His arrow entered between two ribs, piercing its heart, and it fell dead at her feet.
The bear barreled towards Lenui and Old Bill. It was a grizzly, a terrible shaggy old beast. Its gaping mouth showed enormous teeth. Old Bill pulled out his hatchet, unafraid to face it. But before it could reach him, Lenui threw his new hammer.
The moment it left his fingers, the weapon’s magic kicked in, the air runes in the handle propelling it forward at increased speed. When the hammerhead connected with the bear’s skull, the mix of air and earth runes in the hammer’s head doubled the force of the impact.
Lenui had never been a thrown weapon specialist, and it was only a glancing blow to the bear’s temple, but the beast stumbled. Lenui’s grin broadened. It was like Buster had birthed a speedy baby.
Unfortunately, the blow hadn’t been enough to take the beast down. Lenui hurriedly pulled his old hammer as it continued forward and swung a heavy clawed paw at Bill.
The old dwarf jumped back, barely avoiding the claws, then jumped forward, swinging his hatchet with both hands. He may have been living a cushy life the last two hundred years, but he still knew how to swing an axe.
The hatchet slashed into the bear’s neck and the magic in the weapon lashed out, creating three more long gashes just as deep. It was as if the hatchet’s blade was but one of a great cat’s many claws. Blood spurted from the wounds, but the bear did not stop its attack. It turned its head, attempting to bite him. Bill jumped back again and its jaws caught nothing but air. It swiped its heavy arm again just as Lenui arrived.
Lenui swung Buster with all of his might. The hammer’s head struck the bear’s forehead dead center and its skull caved in with a crunch. The bear collapsed with a sighing groan.
The trolls screeched and ran for the horses. Dinnis charged after them, Tolivar’s old sword Meredith drawn. The four draft horses and the two Academy-trained mares had been tied not far from the wagons. Upon hearing the screech of the trolls, the draft horses strained at their ropes.
The magic of the sword filled Dinnis’ veins with a burning drive. With a shout he swung at the left leg of the closest troll, lopping it off at the knee. The tall creature, ignorant of pain, swung around at him and fell. Dinnis’ back swing took off the upper third of its skull, leaving the thing to flop senselessly while he went after the next one.
One of the trolls reached the horses. Three of the draft horses snapped their tethers and ran into the trees, while the fourth screamed and tried to back away, held back by the stubborn rope. The Academy trained horses were more assertive. They reared and kicked, knocking the beast back. It lunged at the trapped draft horse.
Dinnis reached the next troll and slashed the back of its knees, causing it to collapse. He then hacked apart a reaching arm and cleaved its head from its body. Snarling, he went for the third troll only to find it twitching on the ground, an arrow through its skull.
It all happened quickly, the trained fighters dismantling the attackers with efficiency. None of them was injured, though the one trapped draft horse had received a nasty gash across its chest. Now there was just the aftermath to deal with.
“Swen and Dinnis, go get them horses that run off!” Lenui commanded. The two soldiers nodded and went after them.
Lenui bent and picked up the hammer. “I think I’m gonna call you Buster Junior.”
He put it away. Now to deal with cleaning up. The wolves and bear they could just leave to rot. The problem was the trolls. “Bill and Jan, help me drag them blasted screechers into the fire afore they get back up.”
“Wait,” said Bill. “I’ll help you with that, but Jan, I need you to go after that fancily dressed goblin.” The creature had run off as soon as the fighting started. “But don’t kill it! Bind it and bring it back here.”
Jan glanced at Lenui and he gave her a nod. Jan headed off into the trees. She was well suited for this job. The magic in her helmet gave her excellent night vision as well as letting her see the heat left behind by the goblin’s tracks.
“You think we can get anythin’ out of that stupid thing?” Lenui asked the old dwarf.
Bill shrugged and walked over to grab the twitching leg that Dinnis had lopped off of the first troll. “I can only hope so. As you know, goblin’s aren’t much for conversation, but this one seemed smarter than most.”
Lenui frowned at being left with the big piece, then winced at the shooting pain that went through his nose because of the frown. With all the excitement, he had forgotten about his broken nose. He grabbed the troll’s other leg, and repressed a grimace as his fingers gushed into the slime that covered its skin.
The dwarf pulled its body, convulsing as it tried to heal its brain, over to the fireside. It wasn’t all that difficult. Trolls were tall and gangly, but not all that heavy.
The campfire flared as Bill tossed the leg into it.
“Hey, watch my pot! Don’t want no troll slime getting’ in our dinner!” Lenui snapped and as Old Bill reluctantly carried the pot to the side, Lenui rolled his troll into the fire. The flames rose even higher and the slime covering his hand was set ablaze. He cursed and wiped his hand in the dirt, putting out the flames. “Dag-blasted frog-humper!”
“You wanna give me a hand with this one?” Bill asked, having walked to the second troll Dinnis had dispatched.
“Don’t pretend you ain’t strong enough to bring it on yer own,” Lenui said. He walked over to find the missing top part of that first troll’s skull. If left alone long enough, even that small piece would eventually grow into a full-sized troll on its own. “I think yer just tryin’ to keep me distracted so’s I don’t ask you more questions.”
“About what?” Bill asked, dragging the troll that was missing its head.
“You know quite well what,” Lenui replied and felt a squelch as the heel of his boot smooshed into the open top of the skull he had been looking for. “Blast it!”
He had to pull his foot out of his boot and lift it up with the piece of skull to carry over to the fire. He didn’t know if a little troll brain matter on his heel would become a problem, but when it came to trolls, you always chose the side of caution.
“You know more than yer lettin’ on about this thing, Bill,” Lenui said, tossing the skull cap into the fire and picking up a stick to clean out the grooves in his boot heel. “We both know that there was magic controlling them things and I’m pretty dag-gum sure it weren’t the same evil we’re chasin’ after.”
“What makes you say that?” Bill wondered, wincing as the second troll burst into flames.
“’Cause that gall-durn goblin warned us first! Then those trolls scattered the horses . . . them animals was attackin’ together,” Lenui replied. He had scraped off all the brain matter that he easily could. Shrugging, he dipped his boot heel into the fire, then quickly rubbed it out in the dirt before putting his foot back in. “Well? You gonna say somethin’? Cause it’s got to be somethin’ to do with why we came out this way.”
Bill sighed. “I’ll tell you soon enough. I just want to get that goblin back here and make sure you’re right before I say anything. In a way, what we’re here for is just as important as our other mission.”
They retrieved the troll’s head and together grabbed the troll with Swen’s arrow still stuck through its skull. With its brain pierced, the thing couldn’t properly heal the wound, so they were able to drag it over and toss it in with the others.
Lenui didn’t like how high the fire blazed. It was basically a beacon for anyone to see and that wasn’t good. Hopefully, the tree cover around them hid it somewhat.
Jan came back to the camp a short time later with the fancy goblin draped over her shoulder. They could hear it’s muffled complaints despite the gag she had shoved in its mouth. It wasn’t looking quite as proper as it had when they had first seen it. Its arms were tied behind its back and its clothes were dirty and disheveled from being dragged through the forest. It had a large goose egg protruding from the top of its skull.
“I hope this is worth it,” Jan said, as she tossed it onto the ground in front of them. She gestured at the wet front of her scalemail, her lips twisted in a scowl. “Damn thing peed on me. I’ll be smelling it for days.”
Bill gave her an apologetic grimace. “Don’t worry. I’ve got something in the wagon that should help with that.” He crouched beside the goblin and pulled off its gag. “Let’s see what it has to say.”
“Run!” it said. “Flee from this place!”
“Enough of that, you dag-blasted orc turd!” Lenui barked.
Old Bill raised a hand, giving Lenui a calming look. He smiled at the goblin. “Tell me, son. What is your name?”
“I’m no orc turd! Not your son neither,” the goblin snarled, his language surprisingly complex for one of his race. “You should run for the evil is coming!”
“You still haven’t told me your name,” Bill replied.
The goblin eyed him suspiciously. “Name’s Chi-Chi.”
Both Jan and Lenui snorted.
“Very well, Chi-Chi,” said Bill. “I am here as a friend of Master Porthos. Did he send you to chase us away?”
The goblin blinked, unsure how to respond. “Y-you . . . Porthos says big evil comes. You should go.” He nodded, gaining confidence as he cried. “Flee or die!”
“I see. So he’s still alive as we hoped,” said Bill, smiling. “Listen, Chi-Chi. My name is Bill and I’m an old friend of Master Porthos’. It’s urgent that you bring me to see him. I must speak to him about this big evil that’s coming.”
The goblin frowned.
“Who is this Master Porthos?” Jan wondered.
“If this works out, you’ll find out soon enough,” Bill said. “Well, Chi-Chi. Will you take me to him?”
