Shadewell Shenanigans (10 page)

There followed a desperately long silence, during which Loogie Lambontroff finally woke up.

A forceful gale was making the woods a lonely place, ushering carpets of leaves along dusty paths and conspiring with bark hollows to produce some decidedly unnerving noises. Thankfully, this was soon replaced by the sound of snapping twigs, as Pegrand Marshall tightened his grip on the reins and urged the horse onward.

The coach went over a rough bump in the road, and Pegrand had to grab the edge of his seat to keep his balance.

“Sorry about that, milord!” he shouted.

The carriage crashed forward, bending branches and breaking bracken. He risked a glance back over the roof of the coach at a shrieking cacophony that had been building for the last few minutes. It turned out to be the result of a frenzied fight between two squirrels and some poor relative of the gerbil that had succeeded in pinching a nut and would be dragged to hell before it would let go of it. At some point during the struggle, they must have fallen out of a tree and landed on the coach. Pegrand tried to frighten them off with a wave of his whip, but they just carried on regardless.

“How much farther to go before we’re clear of these woods, milord?” he yelled, but there was no reply.

An owl swooped from the trees and settled on his shoulder, feigning affection while keeping half an eye on the little war in case the gerbil lost. Pegrand shrugged it off.

“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT IN THERE, MILORD?” he yelled.

“What?” said Modeset, his head appearing from the coach door.

Pegrand’s reply was lost in the howling wind, which had picked up speed and was reaching critical proportions.

Modeset couldn’t believe the strength of the gale. He put one hand to his hair and found a center parting; diagonally.

“Head east, Pegrand!” he screamed. “This is a fringe wind. It’ll die away if we go deeper into the woods! And hurry up. We can’t be that far behind the girl!”

Pegrand yanked on one side of the reins, and the horse jerked to the right. They thundered down a deep slope that dropped between a series of thick oaks before rising again sharply a few yards away. The wind had almost completely died away, and the trees were beginning to thin out, allowing greater light to filter through.

“Go right again!” Modeset shouted.

“Are you sure, milord?”

“Just do as you’re told, damn it! I can see movement!”

“G
APE! LET GO OF
him, do you hear me? GAAAPE!”

Gordo snatched at the warrior’s belt, his feet scraping on the jetty as he tried to stop Gape Teethgrit’s advance. The barbarian had the old man hoisted high above his head, and was about to hurl him toward the rushing waters of the Washin.

“He did it on purpose,” Gape said, between clenched teeth. “He purposely asked us a riddle that’s impossible to answer.”

“Of course he did!” Gordo yelled. “He works for the bloody Riverboat Association. They’re all nuts!”

“Yeah, well, now this sticky-fingered old loon’s gonna get his!”

“Don’t! Please! I can’t swim!” the old man cried.

The barbarian strode to the edge of the jetty and threw the old man into the air, as if he were hurling a rag doll. There followed a long, drawn-out scream, a very big splash, and some despicable language.

“Wh-where am I?” said Loogie Lambontroff, struggling to get to his feet and staring around with a baffled expression. “Who are you people? And what’s happened to my arm?”

“I’m Groan Teethgrit,” said Groan, who could only deal with one question at a time. “That man what just frew the uvver man in the river is me bruvver, Gape, and the dwarf as tried to stop ’im is me partner, Gordo Goldeaxe. You’re an ’ostage.”

Loogie’s lack of panic was startling. “What happened to my arm?” he repeated.

Groan shrugged. “We cut it off.”

“A creature came out of you and tried to do us in,” Gordo added, feeling that Groan’s black-and-white version was a little too harsh for the gangster. “A twinling.”

“Did you kill it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank the gods for that!” Loogie breathed a big sigh of relief. “You had me worried there for a second.”

Gordo squinted at him. “We still cut your arm off,” he pointed out.

“Oh yeah, I know, but it’ll grow back.” He thrust his remaining hand into a hidden pocket at the back of his britches and produced a flintlock pistol, which he pointed at Gordo. “Besides,” he said, “I never sweat the small stuff. Get over to the end of the jetty.”

“Grahnfgfffghhout!”

“Hold on, Bronny. I’m coming!”

Susti leaped down from the tree, hauled the body of the unconscious wildman off the servant, and helped her to her feet.

“He fell on top of me, ma’am.”

“Yes, Bronny, couldn’t be avoided I’m afraid. Now, let’s unstrap this water jug thingy he’s got around his waist, then we can tie him to the tree.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The two girls roped the stranger to the tree, Susti tying the knot until she was satisfied that it was suitably unshakable. This done, she marched around to the front of the tree, unscrewed the wildman’s water bottle, and sloshed the contents all over him.

“Ahhwhathappenedwhereami?” he spluttered, a look of absolute terror on his face.

“You’re tied to a tree,” said Susti, suddenly embarrassed at the stupidity of her statement. “And I want you to answer some questions before I’ll even consider letting you go.”

“All right, I’m game,” said the captive, grinning madly.

“Good. Okay. Were you after the horses?”

“Um … no.”

“Were you after us?”

“No.”

“Then why were you going to ambush us?”

“I wasn’t. I was trying to get away from something that had ambushed
me
.”

Susti glanced at Bronwyn, whose concerned expression did little for her own doubts.

“In that case, why were you watching the road?”

“The thing that was after me
came
from the road.”

“I see,” Susti lied. “And what was it?”

“A blue tiger, I think: teeth like a shark’s.”

Susti peered around the grove, suddenly afraid. “That’s … er … that’s about all the questions I’ve got. Can you think of one, Bronny?”

“What do you do for a living?” asked the servant sheepishly.

“I walk.”

Susti looked him up and down. “You walk?”

“Yeah.”

“And you make a living from that, do you?”

“Yeah.”

“But walking isn’t profitable!”

He sniffed. “It is when you walk through somebody else’s house.”

“Aha!” Susti exclaimed. “So you’re a thief?”

“Well, I’m more of a free spirit than your average, down-and-dirty thief. You know, a child of nature. I just wander across the land, meeting people and taking whatever I fancy.”

“Yes, thank you. I get the picture. What’s your name?”

“Stump,” said Stump. “And either you’ve got the strangest-looking horse in the land, or that tiger’s back.”

Susti spun around just in time to see the enormous cobalt beast pounce from a narrow space between the trees. It landed in the center of the forest and padded toward them, snarling, growling, and grumbling, as only a determined predator can.

Bronwyn had frozen to the spot with fear, and even Susti found herself unable to move. Stump was having no trouble controlling
his
muscles, but his best efforts to wriggle free were being thwarted by the strength of the ropes that bound him to the tree.

“Help!” he screamed instead. “Somebody help!”

The two girls said and did nothing, as if by doing so they would slowly become invisible.

The tiger prowled back and forth before them. It was a lean beast, half-starved and desperate to satisfy its hunger. The creature it had been tracking was now immobilized and could be taken at will, but the two females looked so much more inviting. Hmm … which one first?

The tiger slavered over its lips.

Eeeny

Meany

Miny

Mo

It took one last look at the girls, then leaped into the air … and exploded.

A piece of lead shot ripped through the tiger’s stomach, imbedding itself in the tree just above Stump’s head. A second blast punctured the beast’s neck as it landed. It lay still.

Modeset lowered both pistols and handed them across to Pegrand. Then he entered the woods.

“Ah, what fortune! If it isn’t Susti, the noble princess on a quest to see every city in Illmoor decimated at the hands of mercenaries. Step away from the tree, please.”

Susti stood her ground. “I don’t take orders from dukes,” she snapped. “I’m a princess.”

“Yes,” said Modeset, nodding, “and very nearly a dead one. Now
move.
”

To Susti’s surprise, the duke aimed the pistol at her.

“You wouldn’t dare, Modeset. My father—”

“—wouldn’t have a clue. Now stop being a spoiled brat and get into the coach.” He turned to Bronwyn. “You too.”

Susti and Bronwyn exchanged glances, then began to move toward the duke.

Pegrand pointed past Modeset’s shoulder at the tree. “What about him, milord?”

“Who?”

“Over there, tied to the tree.”

“Oh, good grief, is that human? I thought it was a monkey.”

“His name is Stump,” Susti said. “He’s a no-good, down-and-dirty thief.”

“Thanks a lot,” said Stump as the two girls clambered reluctantly into the duke’s coach. “Any chance of letting me free, Your Majestum?”

Modeset raised an eyebrow. “Hmm … that depends. Why did they tie you up?”

“Tiger bait.”

“Sounds reasonable. Though, by the state of you, I doubt very much that you’d have satisfied it.” He motioned to Pegrand to untie the prisoner, then he climbed inside the coach and slammed the door.

“Thanks for this,” said Stump cheerfully. “I really appreciate it. Of course, if it wasn’t for your girls, I wouldn’t be tied up in the first place, but still, live and let live.”

“They’re not
our
girls,” Pegrand muttered, breaking the knot and gathering up the rope. “And you’re a free man.”

“Good stuff.”

“Right.”

Pegrand slung the rope over one shoulder and headed off toward the coach. He stopped halfway, and spun around. “Where are you going?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What? Get lost!”

“I need a ride.”

“Forget it.”

“C’mon; it wouldn’t kill you, would it?”

Pegrand muttered something under his breath.

“What’s the holdup?” Modeset called from the coach.

“Nothing!” the manservant replied. “Just trying to get rid of this nomad!”

“I prefer the term ‘free spirit’ myself.”

Pegrand snatched a handful of Stump’s hair and pulled him into whispering distance.

“Get on the back bar,” he said. “And don’t make a noise.”

“You’re making a big mistake, friend,” said Gordo, shuffling backward in the direction of the river while Loogie advanced on him. “We never forget a face.”

The gangster gave a lopsided shrug. “I don’t make mistakes, and you’re not my friends. Now drop your weapons and get to the edge of the jetty. ALL OF YOU.”

Gordo threw down his battle-axe and reversed until he bumped into Gape, who’d turned his back on the threats of the splashing boatman to face the greater threat from the gangster. Groan, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch.

“AND YOU.” Loogie leveled the pistol at Groan, his grin melting away. “MOVE YER BONES.”

Groan spat on the gangster’s boots. “Make me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You ’erd.”

“Don’t be stupid, Groan!” Gordo shouted, beginning to wish he hadn’t dropped his axe. “He’s got a bloody pistol!”

The giant barbarian shrugged. “He looks ’armless to me. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

There was an unnerving click.

“Don’t push me,” Loogie muttered. “I’m
warning
you.”

Groan flexed his considerable chest muscles. “C’mon then,” he said. “Do ya worst.”

After that, five things happened very quickly: Groan dropped onto his knees and rolled forward, his brother gave a shrill whistle, Loogie fired his pistol, Gordo dived backward into the river, and Gape’s two enchanted swords shot out of the ground and decapitated the gangster.

Loogie’s head toppled off his shoulders and rolled along the ground.

“Damn you to hell!” it said.

“T
HIS IS RIDICULOUS,” GAPE
said, rowing the little boat across the Washin. By some miracle (and despite the fact that the boat was obviously a two-seater), they’d all managed to cram in. Still, it was a tight squeeze, especially with Groan sprawled over the bench, fast asleep.

“What is?” Gordo muttered, sniffing miserably and wringing out his plaited beard. “If you’ve got something to say, why don’t you just say it?”

Gape brought the oars level and allowed the water to settle. “Well,” he started. “First you bring this idiot along for the ride—”

“—because of what the innkeeper told us.”

“And what was that, exactly?”

Gordo rolled his eyes. “He’s Craven’s nephew! I thought that having him along might give us some leverage in Rintintetly!”

“Ahh, of course! But then he turned out to be some kind of creature and grew a brother—”

“Yes, as you are very well aware.”

“And then you cut his arm off?”

“You know I did.”

“So why have we still got his head, exactly?”

Gordo ignored Gape’s thumbed reference to the bloodied bundle of cloth beside his leg, and sighed in an attempt to ebb his rising temper. “Because he’s still alive! You saw him speaking!”

“I did,” the warrior confirmed. “Yet I fail to see how carrying the decapitated head of Craven’s long-lost nephew into Rintintetly is going to get us sufficiently on the count’s good side for him to then give up his wife’s wedding ring.”

“Don’t be funny, Gape. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m being serious, GORDO.” He seized hold of the oars and began to row again, with smooth, easy strokes. After a while, he put on a silly voice and mimicked: “Lord Craven, we have traveled far to get to your fair city. We know that you are a terrible, murdering tyrant, who bathes in the blood of chickens, but we’re hoping that you might take pity on us and, perchance, give us your new wife’s wedding ring, in return for which we will reunite you with your long-lost nephew’s … decapitated head. It still talks, so I’m sure you can get any outstanding family problems ironed out, and besides, if you can’t, you can always use him as a football.”