Read Online The Berserker and the Pedant by Josh Powell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Josh Powell
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by hand. Gurken watched her, waiting.
"Well. Hello there," she said. Her voice had the familiar cadence of a grandmother greeting her grandchildren. "Aren't you just the fiercest dwarven warrior?" The chair creaked as she gently rocked in it. "Finally woken up from your slumber, I see. Fine way to greet Gr-ma, killing her nurses. Where are your manners? Oh, but where are mine? Would you like some tea?"
Gurken lowered his axe, unsure of what to do.
The kindly old goblin took a kettle off the fire and poured tea into two small cups. "It's herbal, I'm afraid. Not much real tea around these parts." She handed Gurken a cup, and smelled her own and took a sip. She sighed contentedly.
"That's a good cup of tea, nonetheless. Do you know the secret to a good cup of tea? Let it sit for six minutes. Take the tea too soon, and it's weak. Not enough oomph to it. Not enough kick! Take the tea too late, and it's too bitter. It's overwhelming. Let it sit just right, and there is nothing more pleasing."
She hummed the gentle melody and sipped her tea for a time. Gurken stood there, holding the mug in one hand and axe in the other. Finally, she set the tea down. "Come over here so I can see you better. These old eyes aren't as good as they used to be."
Gurken walked in front of the goblin and let her have a look at him.
"Well, now, you look sharp young fellow." She gave the cord intertwined with his beard a short, sharp tug. It stung. "Stop complaining, that didn't hurt much. Nice and tight. Good, maybe you'll remember next time you start killing things." Gurken was confused.
She took the cord that she had been working on and started tying it into Gurken's beard. As she tied the first knot, she said, "This is Na. He was two years old. He has thirteen children. Na is lying over there by the room you came from, the tombs. He's dead. Who will teach his children how to act now? Who will teach them to behave? No one, that's who. If they survive the trolls, they'll be young hoodlums for sure."
Gurken felt a stab of pain as his beard interweaved with the knot. "There," she said and began a second knot. "This is Gra," she said as she tied the knot. "He was three years old. He has twenty-three children. Most of his are old enough now to be on their own and grew up with a father, a rarity among goblins. Sadly, they were all killed yesterday." She stared at Gurken and tugged the other knot in his beard, sending a fresh stab of pain through his face.
Finished with the knot, she stood up. "Come here now, help an old lady out." Gurken came over to the old goblin and set down his axe. She grabbed his arm and held onto it for support as she walked towards the tombs. She was arthritic, and pain clearly stabbed at her with every step, so progress was slow, giving Gurken time to consider.
He thought about Na and Gra, and about their many children. "They attacked us," Gurken said, unsure about why he should feel the need to justify his actions to her.
"Hush, child. I don't show you this to chastise you. I want you to understand the results of your actions. Everything you do has consequences. For Na and Gra, their actions have resulted in two knots. You did help out a bit with that, but it doesn't mean it's entirely your fault."
She continued to shuffle over to the tombs. Gurken looked again at the room. The ropes swayed from the ceiling. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, with thousands upon thousands of knots. "Why do some of the ropes have a knot at the end?" he asked.
"Each rope represents a family line. Each knot a death. The knot at the end of the rope represents the death of the last member of a family. No need to add more rope, so I tie it off with the last knot. Don't worry, young one, your assault upon our home represents only the smallest of contribution to the knots."
"How long have you been keeping track?" Gurken asked.
"How long? Let's see now. About nine years. Three generations. We split off from another family then. Our family had
"Well. Hello there," she said. Her voice had the familiar cadence of a grandmother greeting her grandchildren. "Aren't you just the fiercest dwarven warrior?" The chair creaked as she gently rocked in it. "Finally woken up from your slumber, I see. Fine way to greet Gr-ma, killing her nurses. Where are your manners? Oh, but where are mine? Would you like some tea?"
Gurken lowered his axe, unsure of what to do.
The kindly old goblin took a kettle off the fire and poured tea into two small cups. "It's herbal, I'm afraid. Not much real tea around these parts." She handed Gurken a cup, and smelled her own and took a sip. She sighed contentedly.
"That's a good cup of tea, nonetheless. Do you know the secret to a good cup of tea? Let it sit for six minutes. Take the tea too soon, and it's weak. Not enough oomph to it. Not enough kick! Take the tea too late, and it's too bitter. It's overwhelming. Let it sit just right, and there is nothing more pleasing."
She hummed the gentle melody and sipped her tea for a time. Gurken stood there, holding the mug in one hand and axe in the other. Finally, she set the tea down. "Come over here so I can see you better. These old eyes aren't as good as they used to be."
Gurken walked in front of the goblin and let her have a look at him.
"Well, now, you look sharp young fellow." She gave the cord intertwined with his beard a short, sharp tug. It stung. "Stop complaining, that didn't hurt much. Nice and tight. Good, maybe you'll remember next time you start killing things." Gurken was confused.
She took the cord that she had been working on and started tying it into Gurken's beard. As she tied the first knot, she said, "This is Na. He was two years old. He has thirteen children. Na is lying over there by the room you came from, the tombs. He's dead. Who will teach his children how to act now? Who will teach them to behave? No one, that's who. If they survive the trolls, they'll be young hoodlums for sure."
Gurken felt a stab of pain as his beard interweaved with the knot. "There," she said and began a second knot. "This is Gra," she said as she tied the knot. "He was three years old. He has twenty-three children. Most of his are old enough now to be on their own and grew up with a father, a rarity among goblins. Sadly, they were all killed yesterday." She stared at Gurken and tugged the other knot in his beard, sending a fresh stab of pain through his face.
Finished with the knot, she stood up. "Come here now, help an old lady out." Gurken came over to the old goblin and set down his axe. She grabbed his arm and held onto it for support as she walked towards the tombs. She was arthritic, and pain clearly stabbed at her with every step, so progress was slow, giving Gurken time to consider.
He thought about Na and Gra, and about their many children. "They attacked us," Gurken said, unsure about why he should feel the need to justify his actions to her.
"Hush, child. I don't show you this to chastise you. I want you to understand the results of your actions. Everything you do has consequences. For Na and Gra, their actions have resulted in two knots. You did help out a bit with that, but it doesn't mean it's entirely your fault."
She continued to shuffle over to the tombs. Gurken looked again at the room. The ropes swayed from the ceiling. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, with thousands upon thousands of knots. "Why do some of the ropes have a knot at the end?" he asked.
"Each rope represents a family line. Each knot a death. The knot at the end of the rope represents the death of the last member of a family. No need to add more rope, so I tie it off with the last knot. Don't worry, young one, your assault upon our home represents only the smallest of contribution to the knots."
"How long have you been keeping track?" Gurken asked.
"How long? Let's see now. About nine years. Three generations. We split off from another family then. Our family had
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