Part 28 (2/2)
Deler and Hallas joined us. The dwarf was intending to look for his favorite hat that had been lost in the heat of battle, and the gnome wanted to have a friendly drink with Kli-Kli.
”How's Marmot?” the jester asked the dwarf a little while later.
”The s.h.i.+eld saved him. He sprained his arm, but his ribs are all right. And his head, too. What else do you need?” Deler scratched the back of his own head. ”Our Marmot's always collecting things. He managed to grab a s.h.i.+eld from somewhere.”
”But if the ogre had belted Tomcat with that handle ... ,” the gnome said slowly.
Yes indeed, Tomcat had been fighting in nothing but his drawers.
”Deler, will you join us?” Kli-Kli asked, jumping over the sprawling body of a guardsman in a gray and blue uniform, but with a white armband.
”I should think I will!” The dwarf didn't need to be invited twice to wet his whistle.
”See, Harold,” the jester taunted me. ”Not everyone's a spoilsport like you.”
I gave the goblin a sour glance, and he shut up, realizing that my patience was exhausted for the day. The gnome muttered something to himself, stuck his mattock under his arm, and started sticking out the fingers on both hands. He was counting how many enemies he had felled. The count came to forty-five. When he heard this figure, Deler stumbled over his own feet and said that some gnomes' conceit was even longer than their beards.
”What are you haggling for?” Hallas asked, annoyed. ”How many do you you think I finished off?” think I finished off?”
”Nine of them,” said the dwarf, picking his battered hat up off the floor.
”How many?” the gnome asked indignantly. ”Why, the gnomes are fighters like-”
”You're lousy fighters,” Deler interrupted. ”You wore yourselves out on the Field of Sorna. We know, we know.”
”Who wore themselves out?” The bearded gnome was ready to start an all-out fight. ”We kicked your backsides!”
”Our backsides!” The dwarf stopped and clenched his fists. ”You kicked our backsides? How come you didn't have a single magician left after that battle?”
”Never mind that, we'll have magicians again.”
”Oho! Sure you will!” said the dwarf, setting his thumb between two fingers and sticking it under his friend's nose. ”We've got all your magic books! Come and take them back, you d.a.m.ned mattockmen!”
”We will! We will take them!” Hallas cried, spraying saliva. ”Give us time and we'll flatten the Mountains of the Dwarves to the ground! We'll bring in the cannons ...”
I didn't listen to any more, just went straight into my room and closed the door firmly behind me. No slanging match between a dwarf and a gnome was going to distract me from the most important business of all-sleep.
It seemed like my head had barely even touched the pillow before the ubiquitous Kli-Kli's annoying little hand was shaking me by the shoulder.
”Harold, get up! Wake up!”
Growling quietly, with my eyes still closed, I started groping around for something heavy to splat the little pest with.
”Kli-Kli,” I groaned. ”Show some respect for the G.o.ds! Let me sleep until morning! Go and drink with your new friends!”
”It's already morning,” the goblin objected. ”You're setting out in half an hour.”
At this far from joyful news I leapt up off the bed, shook my head drowsily, and gazed out of the window. In the east the night sky was gradually turning paler in antic.i.p.ation of the sun's new birth. Four o'clock in the morning at the most.
”Has Alistan completely lost his mind, deciding to go this early?” I asked the goblin, who was sitting on a chair.
”Did you want them to see you off with music and fanfares?” The jester giggled. ”There are too many eyes in the city during the day. Rumors would start.”
”Everyone who's interested already knows about our little excursion,” I objected reasonably.
The jester merely chuckled in agreement.
”And by the way!” I exclaimed in sudden realization. ”How did you get into a locked room?”
”You're not the only one who can open locks, Harold,” the goblin said, and his blue eyes flashed merrily. ”There's a secret pa.s.sage here. ... Are you ready?”
”Just a moment, let me get my things together,” I muttered.
”Everything was collected and packed into Little Bee's saddlebags ages ago. I took the liberty of making sure my best friend was all right.”
”And just who is this best friend of yours?”
As ever, the jester left my ironical question unanswered, and handed me a plate with a breakfast that was still warm.
On the way we met that inseparable pair, Hallas and Deler, also walking in the direction of the stables, arguing animatedly. Those leopards would never change their spots. I was surprised to see them both alive and well, which meant that the battle between them had not taken place after all. The Wild Hearts joined us and we walked the rest of the way together.
”Why don't you tell me where you went last night?” Deler growled resentfully.
”To visit relatives in town,” Hallas replied imperturbably.
”Aha, of course,” the dwarf chortled. ”They'd be really glad to see you at two in the morning. They'd be expecting you. You were chasing the women again, I suppose?”
”And what if I was?” Hallas retorted furiously. ”What business is that of yours?”
”And you brought back some kind of sack,” said Deler, still growling.
The gnome had a plain canvas sack hanging over his shoulder. The kind that miners use for carrying precious stones in the Steel Mines.
”And what of it?” Hallas asked, and started lighting his pipe. Deler wrinkled up his nose contemptuously.
”What are you carrying in that sack?” the dwarf asked curiously.
”I don't ask you what you've got in your keg,” said the gnome, trying everything he could to change the subject.
”Who needs to ask?” said Deler, rather surprised, and he shook the large keg that he was carrying with both arms, puffing and panting. I ought to say that the keg was half the size of the dwarf, and there was something splas.h.i.+ng about happily inside it. ”It's got wine in it.”
”And where did you manage to get hold of such valuable treasure?” Hallas chortled, blowing rings of tobacco smoke.
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