Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Read online

  Clean up we spoke about. Gross.

  It’s a slick system. It allows a new business opportunity for certain martial minded individuals, it gives the downtrodden a means of retaliation and relief, and most importantly, it keeps the King’s hands clean and his dream of an open society alive.

  After witnessing the removal of Rumblesnatch, I needed to find out what was going on. I followed the barbarian as he made his way to the nearest tavern, “The Witches Kettle”. That was a surprise. You can tell a lot about the type of clientele that a tavern draws in our city by the name. If it has something to do with magic, like “The Witches Kettle”, then it most likely caters to the type of patron who has a leaning in that direction. Others, like the “Executioner’s Axe”, cater to the more robust, weapon swinging type individual. You would think a barbarian, known for being particularly adverse to magic, would choose a different place, but maybe he was incredibly thirsty.

  I followed him in and saw why he came here right away. When you hear the word “witch” you tend to think of a hunch back old crone with an evil eye. They’re not all that way. Even witches have to start somewhere, which means that some of them are still pretty young. Some are pretty pretty, too. Our barbarian friend walked in, strode up to one and picked her up in an enormous hug, ending in a serious kiss hot enough to set the place alight. For her part, she squealed when he came through the door and was most definitely a willing participant.

  Honestly, I didn’t know what to do at that point. I hoped to buy him an ale or two and find out more about what he just did. Remember, at this point, I had no idea that the Nuisance Men even existed. Now that he was tied up, I wasn’t sure what my next move should be.

  While I was pondering this, a bony hand sneaked over and pinched me soundly on the right buttock. I let out a squawk and spun around, upsetting a nearby table in the process. Things happened quickly after that. The old crone who pinched me laughed, showing me her toothless maw and winking one jaundiced eye at me in a come-hither manner. While my brain was trying to process this horrible situation, I was suddenly yanked around to the table I jostled.

  The witch there wasn’t as friendly. She stared angrily at me and moved her fingers in some weird way that didn’t even look possible. I moved toward her, under something else’s power. My feet weren’t moving, but I kept on sliding closer anyway.

  When I was right in front of her, she looked me up and down, as I did the same to her. This was a large girl. I don’t mean fat, but…large. Like if our barbarian friend was female and a witch, this would be her big sister. I’m not positive, and they say this isn’t even possible, but I’m fairly certain that she had some non-human blood in her. Maybe troll.

  She leaned down and sort of sniffed at me. I stood there, withering under her gaze, and feeling the eyes of everyone else in the room on me.

  “You spilled my drink,” she growled.

  I looked down quickly to see a huge mug lying on its side on the table. Beneath it was a small puddle of spilled wine. It looked like she was down to the last swallow when I inadvertently stumbled into her table.

  “Well, yes,” I replied, meekly. “I see that. But, in my defense, I was startled, and it looks like you were almost done, and….”

  She glowered at me. This woman was a professional glowerer too. Her eyebrows came down over her eyes, which flared up. I’m not exaggerating that. Her eyes actually flared as if fires were lit in them. It was a minor spell, I’m sure, but at the time, it was amazingly effective. I opened my mouth to say something else, something that would again demonstrate my innocence.

  All that came out though was, “Ummmm…can I buy you one to replace that?”

  With that, she straightened up, the fires died down in her eyes, and she sat down.

  “That would be delightful,” she said.

  I nodded and signaled to the tavern girl, who promptly brought over another huge flagon of wine and relieved me of 6 silver ingols.

  So far, my quest to find out more about my life’s calling was not going well.

  It perked up shortly, however. Avoiding the slowly sneaking hand of the ancient witch who startled me in the first place, I made my way deeper into the tavern. Smiles, of the mocking sort, surrounded me as I moved through the crowd, and I avoided a few imitators seeking a quick pinch of my tender bottom. Finally, I was able to get close to the barbarian, who was now seated at a table, with his paramour firmly planted on his lap.

  “Hi! I was hoping you could tell me what happened back there with Grumblesnatch and why the Watch didn’t arrest you and how I could do that too!”

  I was mortified. This was not what I envisioned. I was going to approach him smoothly, offer to buy him a mug or two of ale and discuss what I saw as a burgeoning professional. Find out what his thoughts were, maybe offer up a criticism or two, and glean my wanted information that way. Instead, I acted like a star struck young girl seeing her first smooth-talking minstrel. Very suave.

  You could have heard a hair pin drop in the place as everyone, including the barbarian and the witch on his lap, stared at me. Not only did I speak in a high-pitched, fast paced falsetto, but I did it at top volume too. I could feel my cheeks burning, which only increased when the barbarian opened his mouth and let out a hearty guffaw, the witch on his lap tittered evilly, and a general merriment at my expense broke out all over.

  What could I do? I stood there, suffering in shame faced silence while the laughter went on. Finally, the barbarian pushed out a chair next to him with his foot.

  “Sit,” he said, trying not very successfully to stop chortling. “Let’s try this again at normal speed.”

  I sat, fully conscious of my good fortune. Maybe my faux pas was the best ticket after all. It seemed to put his mind at ease and ensure him that I was certainly no threat.

  “What’s your name, kid?”

  I told him, and after waiting a few moments for the bout of laughter to die down, he allowed me to ask my questions.

  I’m not going to claim that I learned all I know about being a Nuisance Man that day. As a matter of fact, I didn’t learn much, except that they existed and that anyone could become one with the right set of skills, some ambition and a certain flexibility of morals. I could learn the skills, I had the ambition, and the morals were never a problem for me.

  The other things I learned that day were how much a barbarian can drink and to never, ever, under any circumstances, try to keep up with him when doing so. It was a good two days before my head stopped beating like nomadic centaur war drums. But, I had my answers.

  From there, it’s the standard story. I got to work. Trained, learned, practiced, and repeated. I got a pummeling far more often than I pummeled back in those days. But I stuck with it, and eventually, I started winning a few of those bouts and then more of them. Before too long, I felt I was ready to take on my first job as a Nuisance Man.

  I walked into the local chapter of the Watch and asked to see the Nuisance Board. The watchman who greeted me and asked me what the hell I wanted, pointed to it and asked for my registration number. Well, that was news to me. I politely asked him what he was talking about, to which he replied by pointing at the door and staring at me as if I was dimwitted. This was an obviously an invitation to leave.

  After leaving the watchhouse, I really had no clear idea where to go. I was stymied. Apparently, I needed to register, somewhere, as a Nuisance Man in order to even look at the Board for a job. But where was I to register? The only thing that I could think to do was hang around and wait for an actual, bona-fide Nuisance Man to come to the watchhouse and ask him.

  I stood around for a few hours, trying to stay out of people’s way and be inconspicuous, which was tiring work. You can only loiter on a corner with your hands in your pockets for so long before people start to get suspicious. I received a few offers that made me think I wasn’t the first young man to be noticed standing on a corner, and then decided to move off when I started attracting the attention of the watchme
n themselves.

  Rather than go home, I decided the best course of action would be to find a tavern from which I could still observe the watchhouse and have an ale or two to pass the time. I looked around at the various signs hanging over the street.

  “Buckle’s Armory” read one, and “Stonearms Finest Weaponry” another. There was an alchemist shop, “Herb’s Herbs” and a stable, “The Lone Horse”. There were several other signs announcing various shops, guilds and services, including, “Nuisance Man’s Guild”.

  I read the sign a few times, just to be sure. Then, heaving a sigh, I headed in. I would need to learn to be much more observant if I was going to make it in this business. Still, I held my head high, prepared to face whatever challenges presented themselves, and marched in.

  Inside, there was a counter with a bored looking man behind it. He was of middling years, with a slight paunch, and a balding pate.

  “Help you?” he enquired, barely even glancing at me.

  “Yes,” I replied proudly, “I wish to register as a Nuisance Man.”

  He reached down below the counter and pulled out a large book, which he proceeded to put in front of him, and slowly leaf through the pages until he came to the end of a long list. It looked like all names, with several of them struck through. He slowly lifted a quill and inkwell to the counter, dipped the nib and looked at me.

  “Name?”

  “Duke Grandfather,” I said, expecting the normal look of incredulity or outright laughter.

  There came no such response. He wrote my name in the ledger, and added a number next to it. He copied the same number on a scrap of paper, which he slowly searched around to find, and handed it to me.

  “Do you swear to uphold the sworn duties of a Nuisance Man in the face of any and all challenges to bring glory and fame to the guild of Nuisance Men regardless of personal danger and swear to remain faithful and forthright in all dealings with the citizenry of our great and majestic city who look upon us as succor in their moment of need?”

  “Uh, yes?”

  “Welcome to the guild,” he drawled, and then went back to pondering the mysteries of life, which would clearly only be answered by the wooden counter top at which he gazed.

  And like that, I was a Nuisance Man.

  It was late in the day by now, so I decided to return home for the night and get a fresh start on my new profession bright and early the next day. It was a good plan, or at least it would have been, if I didn’t run into my old friend, Jessup. I hadn’t seen Jessup in a good long while, so it would have been rude to blow him off. I accompanied him to the nearest tavern and the two of us visited well into the wee hours. Unfortunately for my resolve to get up early, we also visited the bottoms of several mugs of ale. Thus, it was mid-morning, to be generous, before I was set to roll.

  But roll I did. I went back to the watchhouse and holding my pounding head high, proudly presented my brand-new registration number. The watchman on duty took it down, looked at me, smirked and indicated the Board.

  “Help yourself,” he said. “Is there next of kin you’d like notified?”

  I was taken aback.

  “Whatever do you mean?

  “Standard procedure. Especially for a snot-nose like you just starting out. Is there someone you want us to notify when we find you dead in an alley?”

  I was nonplussed by the fact that he said “when we find you dead”, rather than “if”. Still, this seemed like a perfectly reasonable service to offer those of us who were determined to contribute to the public good. Making a few coins while at that noble calling didn’t hurt either.

  “Oh,” I said, “well, I guess my mother then.”

  I told him the street where she lived, which he jotted down.

  “Good luck,” he said, and started away.

  I’m fairly certain that the “you’ll need it” I thought I heard was only in my imagination.

  My first assignment! What can I say about that other than that I survived it. I did, obviously, and it wasn’t that close a call either. It also didn’t earn me much money, but it did serve an important function. It gave me confidence.

  I kept at it. I took my share of lumps, I made money and during one memorable case, I even came upon my Ultimate Weapon.

  Oh. I guess I didn’t talk about the Ultimate Weapons, did I? They’re exactly what they sound like. In my case, it’s a gun. I don’t know of anything else like it. I point it, and pull this little trigger, like on a crossbow. There’s a loud bang and a little ball of metal comes flying out of the end, very, very fast. It does a lot of damage to anyone it hits. Well, to most anyone it hits. Some things have protections, like magic, and some are too damn tough, like an ogre for instance. For those, you need different types of metal balls to come out of the end of the gun. It can do that too. But, you just have to remember to set it first, which isn’t hard.

  If you’re after something particularly tough, like an ogre say, you say to the gun, “ogre”, and it does it for you. You pull the trigger; the bang happens and the little metal ball that comes out is specifically designed to hurt ogres. Mind you, I said hurt. You still have to aim in the right place. Shoot an ogre in the hand, and he’s not going to die. He’s going to pummel you into a puddle with the other hand.

  There is a downside to my Ultimate Weapon though. It can only be reset once a day. Once you set it, and pull the trigger, it stays in that mode until sunrise of the next day. So when I pulled the trigger and hit the ogre with a metal ball designed to hurt a mere bugbear, I made a huge mistake. Now, the gun would stay on bugbear until break of day tomorrow.

  All of which is why I was on the run now. Ogres do not like being shot in the face even if it doesn’t do anything more than singe their eyebrows. If I could stay away from him until tomorrow, things would be great, but considering that I was sucking wind already, that didn’t seem likely. I needed a new plan.

  While I’m thinking up exactly what that plan would be I can tell you how I came to be in this mess in the first place.

  I no longer work every day. One of the great things about being self-employed is that you get to decide your schedule. I long since gave up on my dreams of being rich. Not so much because being a Nuisance Man doesn’t pay well. It does, especially if you happen to have an Ultimate Weapon. You would have to work at it a lot, and I confess to a certain amount of laziness. I was perfectly content to take as many jobs as I needed to pay my rent, have food and drinking money, and a little pocket change when I wanted it.

  Yesterday, I woke early enough, and taking stock, discovered that it was probably time to take a job again. The thought got me a down a little. If I was honest, it was getting a little harder to keep on eliminating nuisances that I wasn’t perfectly sure actually were nuisances. The fact that the Watch didn’t always, if ever, check them out, to see if they truly deserved to be on the Board, was starting to bother me. There was this strange feeling creeping in around the edges of my conscience that maybe some of them didn’t really merit being eliminated. The more I learned of the other races, the harder it was becoming to think of them as simply “non-human”, and therefore, disposable. That flexibility of morals was starting to lean in such a way that I was thinking too much. Hopefully, it would bend the other way soon and I would be back to work with a clear conscience.

  However, I needed money, and this is what I did. Until his Majesty came down from the hill and gave me a lifelong stipend for doing such invaluable service to the realm, I was stuck. It was off to the watchhouse and the Board for me.

  When I walk in now it’s only business. They were a little surprised when I returned after my first job, and then my second. So on and so forth. Now, they’re used to seeing me and don’t even ask for my registration number.

  The Board had several nuisances on it that morning, including the ogre currently pounding along behind me in hot pursuit. He was the second highest one, and the price I’d get for getting rid of him would keep me in mutton and ale for a good amount of
time. For a lot of Nuisance Men, he’d be a real challenge. For me, with my Ultimate Weapon, it shouldn’t be that hard, but I wasn’t going to bring that up while I negotiated my fee.

  I took down the information for the complainant and was on my way. I was fully expecting an aggravated tavern owner, or perhaps an old woman, or even a school master who would tell me that the ogre was driving away their business, looking at her funny, or bullying his students for their lunch money. Instead, a very pretty young woman answered my knock on the door to her house.

  “Yeah?” she asked, still chewing what appeared to be a piece of beef fat.

  “Are you Miss Cavendale?” I asked.

  “Who’s asking?” she came back with, talking through a belch that confirmed that yes, it was indeed, beef fat.

  “You put a notice on the Nuisance Board at the watchhouse. I’m here to take care of the problem.”

  I showed her the notice that I had taken down, but she didn’t even glance at it.

  “I can pay 200.”

  “200 silver ingols isn’t going to be enough for an ogre,” I replied. In truth, it was, but I wanted to see how far I could take this.

  “200 gold, idiot. And no questions asked. Take it or leave it.”

  Well. 200 gold rubles was an awful lot of money. It was an immense amount of money, to be honest. I tried to keep the amazement off my face and the greed out of my voice.

  “That would be acceptable,” I squeaked out. “Where…?”

  I got no further.

  “I last saw him down by the docks. I said no questions! You want the money; you find him, kill him and bring me his head.”

  “It doesn’t work that way…” I began, only to find myself talking to the outside of her door.

  As I’ve mentioned, Nuisance Men get paid up front. What I didn’t mention is that we don’t bring heads back to the people paying either. In this case, she was telling me that I could get paid 200 gold rubles for a job that was really worth only an eighth of that. But would she pay? That was the big question. I suppose, if she didn’t, I could involve the Watch, since the nuisance was registered on the Board. Their fee for such a thing would be steep, of course. Especially to help out a Nuisance Man that was too stupid to get the money up front.