Protector Of The Grove (Book 2) (17 page)

“
Don’t worry. I will help you
. A
s much as you’ll let me, that is,
” said Mellinda, assuming that his dour expression was due to the oncoming appointment with the rogue horse. She was wrong. He had plenty of time to worry about his performance later, but now there was a more pressing issue on his mind.

There was so much to do and it was already nearing dinner time. He would be cutting things close. Arcon left the residence through the back door, deciding not to return to the laboratory just yet. He trotted quickly towards the rear gate of Aloysius’ property. There would be just the one guard there and, though he knew Arcon by sight, there was a way around that.

He slipped into the stables, making sure that no one saw his entrance. Quickly, he hid in an empty stall and began a complex spell.

As always while in the Capitol City of Mallad or the Gnome Homeland, he had to be careful using magic in an unauthorized area. His laboratory was okay because of the complex wards upon it, but the king employed a host of wizards whose job was to monitor magic in the city. Any unexpected spells were immediately noted and if he wasn’t careful he’d find himself surrounded by suspicious guards.

Fortunately, Arcon’s mastery of subtle magic came in handy. Using quiet threads of air, he began to alter his appearance. He turned his blond hair auburn and changed the features of his face, aging his skin and giving himself fuller lips and darker eyes. Next he changed the visible shape of his figure, using subtle cushions of air to increase the bust area and hips. His white robes didn’t need a change, but his sash went from the green stripes of a student to the solid green of a full steward.

“
It always amuses me when you do this, but I will be very angry with you if we’re ever caught
,” Mellinda remarked.

When he walked out of the stables, he was the spitting image of Steward Molly. He was quite proud of it, though a close inspection or attempt at a conversation would ruin the illusion. Any but the most basic animation to the face would require more magic than he could use without detection. So he kept the face fixed in the kind of scowl that let people know he was not in the mood to talk.

His gambit worked as it had the previous two times he had used it. The guard saw him coming and swallowed at the look on Molly’s face. With a smile and a mumbled good evening, the guard bowed as Arcon passed by.

He walked into the crowded streets of the homeland, pleased with the way the passers-by deferred to him, but he didn’t dare keep the disguise up for long. After two blocks he let the illusion fade bit by bit. If word ever got back to Molly that she’d been seen out and about, she would immediately suspect him.

He dropped the womanly attributes first, then gradually let go of the facial features, but he left his hair and sash colors as they were. The change in hair color was probably enough to keep him from being recognized. Besides, keeping up the appearance of being a full steward was too much of an advantage to let go of.

He traversed the streets of the Gnome Homeland, moving from the residences of the more powerful houses to those of the middle houses. The difference in wealth between them was obvious in this section of the homeland. Though the streets remained clean and there was a lack of the beggars and prostitutes that were in Mallad, the styles of the residences changed drastically.

The first time he’d been there Mellinda had commented that it was like going back in time. The residences of the powerful houses looked more like palatial estates, while the older residences were relics of a past age, most of them set high off of the ground on pillars to avoid the floods that used to pass through during every monsoon season. Now Scholar Abernathy’s barrier kept the floods away from the homeland and all it had cost was the soul of a rogue horse.

When he reached his destination, Arcon changed his appearance one last time, darkening his skin and hair and turning the color of his sash to black, identifying him as a steward that catered to the gnome’s monetary and scholarly needs. The residence was of the oldest style of scholar home and required he climb a staircase fifteen-feet-high before knocking on the front door.

A pimply-faced teenager answered the door. He sighed when he saw Arcon. “Oh, it’s you, Steward Gray.”

“Good evening, Steward Reggie,” said Arcon with a smile. The youth was a green-sash in his first year of duty. “I’m here to see Scholar Tobias. There was an error in last month’s royalty report and I need to go over the figures with him again.”

“Yeah,” Reggie said, letting him in, a bored look on his face.

Were this any other city, Tobias’ residence would have been seen as lavish, with as many as four guest rooms, two libraries, and laden bookshelves lining all the walls. But now that Arcon understood the way gnomish society worked, he could see the differences. The rugs and bookshelves were of lesser quality and the books had all seen heavy use unlike the pristine collections Aloysius had, where he could afford to have a worn book rebound every few decades or perhaps even discard them for newer copies.

All in all, it was an inconspicuous place. Perfect for the leader of the scholars resisting Aloysius. Too bad Tobias was so open about it.

“
Ugh. I hate this place
,” Mellinda groaned.

“Has the Scholar eaten his evening meal?” Arcon asked in a courteous tone. Green-sashed stewards, being in charge of the gnome’s physical needs, were also in charge of who saw their scholars. Meal times were always respected. It was hard enough to get a gnome to eat without someone distracting them.

“In fifteen minutes,” Reggie replied. “That’s all the time you get unless you wish to return later.”

“That should be long enough, thank you,” Arcon replied and, with slumped shoulders, the boy led him down a hallway towards the scholar’s study.

Tobias’ house was wealthy enough to employ several servants that kept the place tidy, but Reggie was one of only two green-sashed stewards assigned to the gnome. As the younger of the two stewards, he had to do all the menial work, such as answering doors or announcing guests. Stewards hated that part of their job, patiently answering the door for the same people that would bow to them if they passed them in the streets. But it was tradition and stewards were slaves to tradition.

When they reached the rather unadorned door to the study, Reggie rolled his eyes and said, “Before you go in there, you should know that he’s having one of his bad days. The news of Scholar Genevieve’s death hit him hard.”

“Understandably so,” said Arcon, fairly sure he knew exactly what Tobias’ reaction had been. “It has hurt us all.”

“Right,” the steward said and knocked once before opening the door. “Scholar Tobias, Steward Gray is here to see you again. Something about the royalties.”

“Who?” the gnome said, his back to them as he etched something on the back wall. When he turned and looked at them, it was obvious that Reggie’s assessment of the scholar’s bad day was correct. His eyes were red and puffy, his lips and nose smudged with ink, while his fingers were stained black.

Tobias looked old and worn, his back bent and shoulders slumped in such a way that you forgot how tall he really was. His hair was thin and wiry and he wore a pair of spectacles in an ancient style with square lenses. His robes were worn and stained in places by ink the servants had not been able to get out. At first glance it would be easy to dismiss him, but Arcon knew better.

The gnome’s face lit up when he saw Arcon standing there. His posture straightened a bit. “Ah, Gray, how pleasant to see you. That will be all, Reggie,” he said, his voice lively for someone that looked as haggard as he did.

The moment the door closed behind the young steward, the gnome’s face tightened with anger. Arcon could tell that he was fully within his focus. “Can you believe it, Gray? The nerve of that monster, killing sweet Genevieve!”

“You think Scholar Aloysius was behind that?” Arcon asked in surprise. This was not how he had planned on starting their conversation.

“Of course! Look. Look!” the gnome said, gesturing wildly at the sketch he’d been working on. “It all fits together far too well.”

Arcon’s eyes moved to the rear wall. It was covered by an enormous map of the capitol. Each section of Mallad and the Gnome Homeland was colored in and notated with great detail, with markers showing events and correlations. Each one of the markers had a line drawn between it and Aloysius’ residence. There were far more today than there had been when Arcon first started meeting the scholar. A big circle and skull had been drawn at the building where Genevieve had been murdered.

The gnome’s notes were too detailed and difficult to read for Arcon to make anything else out. “What makes you so sure?”

“Genevieve was one of us!” Tobias declared. “One of the resistance. She joined last week. The highest ranking member yet. She saw evidence of Aloysius’ plots and came to me. After years of ignoring my claims, she came! I fear she went and confronted him last night.”

“I don’t know,” Arcon said with a doubtful tone. “Would he really go so far as to assassinate someone as high on the council as Scholar Genevieve? It seems risky.”

“If Aloysius was afraid to go that far, we wouldn’t need a resistance,” Tobias said with a shake of his head. He traced a finger over his sketches. “The council has evidence that shows the dark wizards were behind her death, but I doubt that’s the case. They have too much to lose to assassinate someone like her. Somehow Aloysius has framed them.”

“
He’s probably right
,” Mellinda agreed. “
He wouldn’t bother with someone like Tobias. He’s too open. Too wildly discredited to be much of a threat. But if someone like Scholar Genevieve spoke up, the rest of the council would listen. Aloysius could be taken down. I would have killed her too
.”

“But why would he frame the dark wizards?” Arcon asked. “He has made use of them in the past and placing the blame on them could lead to their annihilation. If he wanted another scholar killed, it would be so much easier to make it look like an accident, like he has in the past.”

“Ah yes. Like with Abernathy’s mysterious fall from the Barrier Tower,” Tobias said, yanking the end of his long nose. “The only conclusion I can come to is that Aloysius wants there to be a war.”

“Why? I spoke with him earlier and he says he has allies on each side,” Arcon replied.

“That may be true, but he also has enemies,” the scholar replied. “Oh! Yes, it’s clever. So clever! Perhaps he has arranged for his enemies on both sides to be destroyed during the conflict. It’s so neat and tidy!” There was a hint of admiration in his voice.

“
Ooh, I love our Aloysius
.” Mellinda laughed. “
He’s so clever
!”

“This ties in with the reason I came to see you,” Arcon told the gnome. “Aloysius is leaving tonight, planning on being far away when the fighting starts. He’s taking me with him.”

“Is he now?” Tobias asked. “And where is he off to?”

“The Razbeck border. He plans on meeting a man there with some merchandise,” Arcon replied.

Tobias gave him a searching look. “Do you have any idea what this ‘merchandise’ might be?”

“No, Scholar. He didn’t say,” Arcon replied. There was a lot he hadn’t told Tobias. The scholar didn’t know his real identity or the truth of his work with Aloysius. Not yet. Tobias had a tendency to blab. If he told the gnome too many details it wouldn’t take long for Aloysius to figure out that Arcon was talking to his enemies.

“
It seems we walk a fine line in everything we do
,” Mellinda mumbled.

“Hmm,” the gnome said, yanking on his nose again. “Well I just might have an idea. The resistance caught wind of something a while back. He sent his top red sash out hunting for rogue horses. We are doing our best to stop him in those efforts. I don’t know what he would want them for, but he never does anything for the good of the rest of us.”

“Well whatever he is after, you and the rest of the resistance need to follow his example and get out of here,” Arcon said forcefully. “If he has set up this conflict as an excuse to have his enemies killed, the chances are that you are one of them.”

“
Really? Are we going to push this gambit so far
?” Mellinda asked. “
They are the enemy after all
.”

Like you said when you first suggested the idea, this helps us keep our options open. If they’re all dead we lose our leverage
, Arcon sent.

“
Good point
,” she said. “
Still I wonder. Is your conscience going to get the better of you
?”

Arcon didn’t reply.

“Perhaps you are right,” Tobias said, nodding slowly. “Perhaps we should leave. I have a hiding place prepared for just such a situation.”

There was a sharp knock at the door and Steward Reggie poked his head in. “Time for your evening meal, Scholar Tobias.”

“It seems I must take my leave then, Scholar,” Arcon said. He found himself eager to leave.

“I’ll be with you in just one moment, Reggie” Tobias said. “I have a few more things to say to Gray here.”

Once the youth had shut the door, Tobias pulled a piece of parchment out of a desk drawer and began writing quickly. Once he had finished, he folded it and placed the parchment in an envelope, which he placed in Arcon’s hands. The scholar lowered his voice. “This is a list of our assets that are out opposing Aloysius’ plans. Some are more formidable than others, but if you come across any of them in your journey, help them in whatever way you can. It’s important that monster does not succeed.”