Gareth and th Lost Island (3 page)

The lead brute gave the Dwarf a smile that was
missing several teeth and shook his head. “Don’t need to,” he
replied.

“I guess we’ll see if the four of you can take us
then,” Tralnis offered.

The brute shook his head, his smile never wavering.
“No shorty, I meant, we don’t need to go and get reinforcements.
They should be here in two shakes of a melon lizard’s tail,” he
explained. As if they were waiting for their cue, four more men ran
into the stables, followed by Melinda’s husband and his
bodyguards.

Tralnis looked away from the group of thugs to meet
Gareth’s eyes. “We’re screwed,” he muttered, summing up their
predicament nicely.

Melinda’s husband stepped forward, but not quite far
enough to be in front of his men. He spat on Gareth’s already wet
boot. “I should have known it was scum from the University that
seduced my wife. My Melinda is as pure as driven snow, and would
never betray me. It must have been that blasted magic you freaks
teach there that swayed and seduced my little shrub,” he snarled.
“Don’t you agree, boys?” he asked smugly.

Gareth watched as the men didn’t respond right away.
Both bodyguards suddenly found either the ceiling, or a leftover
horseshoe extremely interesting, and refused to meet their
employer’s eyes. A couple of the brutes also shifted around
uncomfortably, while one of them tugged on the collar of his shirt
in attempt to hide a suspicious looking bruise.

“Damn, that lass must be part Dwarf,” Tralnis
observed under his breath.

Melinda’s husband slowly looked at each of his men
while he ground his teeth in anger. “We’ll talk about this after
you kill these two, and give their bodies to the sea,” he
ordered.

Glad for the distraction, the brutes standing in
front of the group tapped their batons on their palms repeatedly.
Gareth stuck his right hand into his jacket pocket, while he held
his left out for the others to stop. “I wouldn’t do that if I were
you,” he warned.

This caused the brutes to chuckle in amusement. “And
why not?” the lead brute inquired.

“Like your boss said, my companion and I are from the
University Arcanum. We possess magic you’ve never dreamed of,”
Gareth replied.

A brute in the back called out, “I don’t know about
that. After me mum’s squirrel and parsnip stew, I have really weird
dreams.”

The lead brute briefly closed his eyes, and shook his
head in despair over the men he commanded. He groaned, and opened
his eyes. “What sort of magic are you threatening us with,
Scholar?” he asked with just a bit more politeness in his voice
compared to earlier.

Gareth gave the brute a confident smile, and withdrew
his right hand from his pocket. In between his thumb and forefinger
was a metal pendent set with a brown river rock engraved in runes.
“Nothing less than a Kraunish protection talisman. With it, I will
call forth the Unholy Winds to lay low my enemies,” Gareth told
them. All he got in response were blank stares. “You know, the
Kraunish… a civilization between the First and Second Great
Apocalypses, known for their powerful rune techniques,” he tried to
explain. When he still got blank stares from the brutes, Gareth
whispered, “Grab my arm,” to Tralnis, and held the talisman out
forcefully. Tralnis obeyed, while Gareth rubbed his thumb across
the stone and shouted the Kraunish activation word.

Everyone, including Gareth and Tralnis, closed their
eyes, and turned their heads away from whatever magic Gareth had
called forth. After a rather awkward moment of silence, they all
cracked open their eyes, and saw that absolutely nothing had
happened. The brutes chuckled again, and started to advance once
more on their victims.

Gareth cocked his head to the side, confused as to
why the talisman hadn’t worked. He had brought the talisman to the
University to have it examined, and had a couple of Wizards use a
set of miniature divining rods to test it. They had assured him
that the talisman was magical and fully charged.

“Ohhhh,” Gareth exclaimed when he realized he was
holding the talisman upside-down. He flipped it over in his hand,
and softly said the activation word when the first brute was only
two paces away. Like a ripple in a pond, a visible wave of magic
slowly moved out away from Gareth.

The first brute stopped suddenly as the magic struck
him. The magic caused him to make a strange face as he suddenly
felt rather bloated, with a recognizable discomfort in his
midsection. Before the brute could comment about it, he let loose
with an extremely loud fart. It was followed quickly by a seemingly
endless supply of flatulence from him. The magic continued to move
outward, and interacted with the rest of the brutes with the same
results. With his rather large nose, Melinda’s husband turned
green, and fainted away before he too was struck with chronic
flatulence. The bodyguards soon joined their fellows in what
sounded suspiciously like a herd of gazelle running over a field
made of whoopee cushions.

Gareth and Tralnis watched the magic ripple in
dawning horror as it continued to expand, and make its way to
towards the stalls full of horses. “Oh…” Tralnis started to
exclaim.

“Don’t say it,” Gareth pleaded.

“…shit!” Tralnis finished right as the magic wave
struck the horses. As one, the horses raised their tails, and a
sound like trumpeting elephants filled the stables.

The brutes fell to the ground, holding their
stomachs. A chorus of complaints followed this latest attack on
their senses. “Oh gods, my mouth was open… I can taste it!” and
similar woes were voiced from the group.

With one hand firmly clamped over his nose, Tralnis
pointed at the stables gate which no longer had men blocking it.
Gareth, holding his own nose, nodded in agreement. Making a break
for it, they staggered out of the stables, and onto the street
beyond it. They ran as fast as they could down the cobblestone
streets. Their path was lit by charged Aetherium globes hanging out
from brass poles set along the curb.

As it turned out, the two scholars had no need to
run. Their enemies were still laying on the ground, contributing to
a cloud so rank, it would be used as a story to frighten small
children for generations to come.

Gareth slowly crept down the stairs, pausing every
few steps to hold his aching head. He silently cursed the fact that
the bedrooms of the two story townhome he shared with Tralnis were
up on the second floor. The only good thing about the layout he
could think of was that the bathroom was also on the second floor.
Having the loo on the same floor turned out to be a blessing when
Gareth had been forced to run to the toilet as soon as his churning
stomach woke him up.

Their townhome was nestled in a row of similar homes
just outside of the University Arcanum’s main gate. Here was where
the more affluent professors (or students with rich parents) lived.
Since Tralnis was not only a tenured professor, but a practicing
doctor as well, he was able to afford the home easily. The inside
of their home was painted slate gray to give off the impression one
was surrounded by rock walls. Large wooden beams were mounted on
the ceiling as accent pieces to mimic the beams found in the
Dwarven tunnels.

At the foot of the stairs was a door that led to the
large kitchen that also did double duty as a place to share
informal meals. The proper dining room was across the hall, and was
rarely used, except for the occasional party Tralnis would throw.
The floor of the kitchen was the same polished iron wood that ran
throughout the home.

This morning, Tralnis was seated at the small table
in the kitchen, reading the daily news, and munching on some toast.
Henry, their Chim butler, and Gareth’s closest friend, saw that
Tralnis’ mug was almost empty, and poured his employer more of the
extra strong tea favored by Dwarves. The fact that Henry did this
with one of his dexterous feet with opposable thumbs, while frying
bacon with his hands, didn’t even rate a raised eyebrow in their
household.

Like most of his species, Henry was covered from head
to toe in long, fine hair. His impeccably clean fur was a dark,
burnt orange color. His arms were much longer than a human’s, with
his hands resting halfway between his knees and ankles when
standing up straight. Like most of the Great Apes, Henry nose was
flat with large flaring nostrils. He was dressed in the traditional
uniform of a Chim household servant. The uniform consisted of a
black cotton vest with numerous pockets, and a black cargo kilt
made of the same fabric.

Gareth’s whimper of pain drew the attention of
Tralnis and Henry. “Gods, I feel horrible, and everything has a
weird yellow tint to it,” he moaned.

Henry hooted, snarled, and blew his lips out in the
language of the Chims.

“No, I took care of my morning absolutions before
coming down, so that isn’t why everything looks yellow to me,”
Gareth replied as he slid into his chair across from Tralnis.

“My guess is that what you’re experiencing is just
one of the possible side effect of the sobriety elixir I gave you
last night. Your vision will most likely be back to normal in an
hour or so,” Tralnis said, looking over the top of his paper. “You
should feel lucky, one of the other possible side effects would
have turned your skin green for week. Oh… while I’m thinking about
it, thank you for being my test subject by the way,” he added
absently.

“The elixir sobered me up instantly. Shouldn’t it
have kept me from getting a hangover as well?” Gareth inquired.

Tralnis shook his head, causing his long beard to
brush against the newspaper. “No, that would be a totally separate
potion that I’m in the very early stages of developing. The
sobriety elixir only clears your head, it doesn’t alter any other
effect huge quantities of alcohol have on a person,” he explained.
“How many times have I told you not to try and match me drink for
drink? None of the other twelve sentient species can match a
Dwarf’s constitution,” Tralnis chided his adopted son for what
seemed like the hundredth time.

Henry stood on one leg again, and pulled out a second
teapot from one of the lower cabinets with his raised foot. He then
pulled out a canister of tea, and poured some of the loose leaves
into the pot. Henry added some herbs to the loose tea before
switching the pot to his free hand to add water from the sink. With
his now free foot, he turned one of the knobs on the gas stove to
start a free burner near the back. He grabbed a thin reed out of a
jar next to the stove with his finger like toes. Lighting one end
of the reed on an already lit gas flame, he ignited the hissing gas
burner. With a practiced swish, he waved the reed in the air fast
enough to put it out before placing it back in the jar. Henry
served up the bacon with one hand, and slid a plate of dry toast in
front of Gareth with his foot.

“Thank you, Henry,” Gareth muttered as he tried to
decide if he could stomach even that small amount of food. Henry
shifted his balance to grab the honey bowl for Gareth. This motion
shifted Henry’s kilt, accidently flashing Gareth his family jewels.
“Henry, I know Chims wear a kilt because it doesn’t restrict their
freedom of movement like pants do, but that’s not something I want
to see this early in the morning,” he complained.

Henry grunted, and whistled, while jerking his head
towards Tralnis.

“Do I even want to know what he said?” Tralnis
inquired.

“He said at least he didn’t dunk them in my tea, like
someone else he knows,” Gareth relayed.

“I don’t know how many times I have to explain that.
I was drunk, and wondering if they called it ‘tea-bagging’ because
it felt similar to dunking the boys in a cup of tea. How was I to
know Henry had just poured you a fresh cup, and it was steaming
hot?” Tralnis complained. “Luckily, I had some wonderful burn
ointment on had,” he added.

Not wanting to remember that particular evening,
Gareth decided to risk it, and try eating the toast. After
drizzling some honey over it, he took a large bite of the sweet and
crunchy combination. Unfortunately for Gareth, Henry chose that
moment to ask a question with a series of grunts and howls. The
mouthful of toast got stuck in Gareth’s throat, as he tried to
swallow and laugh at the same time. Henry took two, long steps, and
was behind Gareth in an instant. The Chim delivered a strong blow
to the back of the young man’s back with one of his large hands.
The blow was enough to dislodge the food, and get his friend
breathing once more.

Tralnis watched the action from across the table.
When he was certain his skills as a doctor wouldn’t be needed, he
put down his paper in frustration. “You know, one of these days I
really should learn Chimmish,” he muttered to himself. “When you
are able to, Gareth, would you mind telling me what my butler said
that was funny enough to get you to choke on your food?” he
requested.

Gareth glanced over at Henry, who was standing as if
expecting something. The look on his childhood friend’s face made
him chuckle again. When he got himself back under control, Gareth
looked at Tralnis, and bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Sorry
Tralnis, Henry was asking why you smelled like a horse’s ass when
we got home. He was worried you had tried having sex with a Centaur
again,” he explained.

“What is this… remind a Dwarf of his past
humiliations day? You two are never going to let me forget that
little misadventure, are you?” Tralnis sighed.

Gareth smiled, despite his hangover. “You fell off of
a stepstool, and dislocated your shoulder while buggering a
Centaur. You ended up with your arm in a sling for over a month.
That’s a story that bears repeating,” he reminded his father with a
smirk. Letting Tralnis off the hook, he looked back towards Henry,
who had finished brewing the tea with the additional herbs. “Do you
remember that Kraunish amulet I dug up on our last expedition?” he
asked. Henry nodded his head as he poured Gareth a cup of tea.
“Turns out, I was partially correct in deciphering the runes. It
did provide a means for escape, but the ‘Unholy Winds’ it mentions
came from a different source than I expected. I suspect the
talisman was originally sold in a Kraunish joke shop,” he
explained. After putting Gareth’s teacup in front of him, Henry
lifted the back of his kilt and fanned it as if getting rid of a
foul smell. Gareth nodded, and the Chim fell over, howling with
laughter.