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Read Online Weapon of the Guild [The Chronicles of Grimm Dragonblaster, Book 2] by Alastair J. Archibald - Free Book Online
Authors: Alastair J. Archibald
Tags: Science-Fiction
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they had shared. Grimm immersed himself in the tales of gallantry and daring of which two friends never seemed to tire, and eventually he fell asleep. The words “murder", “death” and “killer” ran around his head for a while longer, but soon departed, to become admixed with “Quest", “glory” and “fame". What would Granfer Loras think of me? Grimm thought. He was a Questor, just like me. He must have killed on many occasions. I'm sorry, Granfer...
The young mage drifted into merciful, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 5: Toy Town
When Grimm awoke, he saw Harvel burying the embers of the fire and the remains of the previous night's meal. Crest whistled as he shaved with his dagger, using quick, precise movements. The keen blade never once nicked his olive skin. Dalquist was engaged in a series of stretches and bends to ready his body for the journey ahead. As Grimm stood and stretched, the others acknowledged him with polite nods, but not a word was said.
Grimm still felt solemn after his brush with death. Although no longer racked with guilt, he knew with dread certainty that the innocent, eager child he had once been was no less dead than Harman. However, if there must be regret, there was room for a little pride. He had faced danger and prevailed. He was a Questor; he was a man to be respected and feared.
The party broke fast, still swathed in silence, as the sun rose above the horizon. Dalquist said, “We'll be in Crar by midday if we start now. That will give us the chance to scout the lie of the land while there is still light."
"A sound plan, Questor Dalquist,” Crest replied. “I visited the city of Crar some years ago, and can tell you a little of their ways. They think themselves master traders, and I can tell you there are few places so full of avarice and folk ready to take the last copper from your purse. We'll have to pay well even to enter the city walls; perhaps we'd best take stock of our joint resources first." Dalquist smiled. “I do have some wealth with me, Crest,” he admitted. “However, it is not mine to give as I will. Watch this!"
The mage bent and picked up a handful of pebbles, muttering over them for a few moments. Grimm gasped as each stone took on the colour and shape of a gold coin. With Dalquist's permission, he took one of the coins, scrutinised it and weighed them in his hand. All his senses reported to him that the objects were pure gold.
"I can't tell the difference!” he cried. “That is a marvellous spell!"
"I'm impressed, Questor Dalquist,” Crest said, “but if you can do this, why bring real money at all?"
"Ah, Crest, if only these were real gold pieces then we should all be rich!” Dalquist said with a smile.
“However, they will revert to stone on my death, or after a delay of a few days. I have no desire to bilk honest traders, but I have fewer scruples when it comes to deceiving a barefaced cheat in mid-swindle. If we are charged fair worth, we'll pay with good gold, but if it seems we're being chiselled, the cheats are welcome to the stones."
"It's so good to travel with magic-users who aren't too high and mighty to countenance a little financial finesse!” The smiling Harvel seemed to hold gold in his pocket in higher regard than that owned by others.
"Wait a moment!” Grimm said, grabbing Dalquist's sleeve as an urgent thought struck him. “I feel a little uncomfortable at the idea of walking into Crar with a Mage Staff and a Guild Ring." Dalquist smiled. “You're right, Grimm. I should have thought of that. We need a little magical disguise: a simple Glamour should suffice."
After several moments’ incomprehensible chanting, Grimm saw Dalquist's fine robes change from green silk to brown sackcloth, and his gold-ringed staff, Shakhmat, took on the appearance of a rough-hewn, gnarled walking-stick. Looking down at himself, he saw his own appearance had changed in a similar fashion. Although he could feel the warm, comforting presence of
The young mage drifted into merciful, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 5: Toy Town
When Grimm awoke, he saw Harvel burying the embers of the fire and the remains of the previous night's meal. Crest whistled as he shaved with his dagger, using quick, precise movements. The keen blade never once nicked his olive skin. Dalquist was engaged in a series of stretches and bends to ready his body for the journey ahead. As Grimm stood and stretched, the others acknowledged him with polite nods, but not a word was said.
Grimm still felt solemn after his brush with death. Although no longer racked with guilt, he knew with dread certainty that the innocent, eager child he had once been was no less dead than Harman. However, if there must be regret, there was room for a little pride. He had faced danger and prevailed. He was a Questor; he was a man to be respected and feared.
The party broke fast, still swathed in silence, as the sun rose above the horizon. Dalquist said, “We'll be in Crar by midday if we start now. That will give us the chance to scout the lie of the land while there is still light."
"A sound plan, Questor Dalquist,” Crest replied. “I visited the city of Crar some years ago, and can tell you a little of their ways. They think themselves master traders, and I can tell you there are few places so full of avarice and folk ready to take the last copper from your purse. We'll have to pay well even to enter the city walls; perhaps we'd best take stock of our joint resources first." Dalquist smiled. “I do have some wealth with me, Crest,” he admitted. “However, it is not mine to give as I will. Watch this!"
The mage bent and picked up a handful of pebbles, muttering over them for a few moments. Grimm gasped as each stone took on the colour and shape of a gold coin. With Dalquist's permission, he took one of the coins, scrutinised it and weighed them in his hand. All his senses reported to him that the objects were pure gold.
"I can't tell the difference!” he cried. “That is a marvellous spell!"
"I'm impressed, Questor Dalquist,” Crest said, “but if you can do this, why bring real money at all?"
"Ah, Crest, if only these were real gold pieces then we should all be rich!” Dalquist said with a smile.
“However, they will revert to stone on my death, or after a delay of a few days. I have no desire to bilk honest traders, but I have fewer scruples when it comes to deceiving a barefaced cheat in mid-swindle. If we are charged fair worth, we'll pay with good gold, but if it seems we're being chiselled, the cheats are welcome to the stones."
"It's so good to travel with magic-users who aren't too high and mighty to countenance a little financial finesse!” The smiling Harvel seemed to hold gold in his pocket in higher regard than that owned by others.
"Wait a moment!” Grimm said, grabbing Dalquist's sleeve as an urgent thought struck him. “I feel a little uncomfortable at the idea of walking into Crar with a Mage Staff and a Guild Ring." Dalquist smiled. “You're right, Grimm. I should have thought of that. We need a little magical disguise: a simple Glamour should suffice."
After several moments’ incomprehensible chanting, Grimm saw Dalquist's fine robes change from green silk to brown sackcloth, and his gold-ringed staff, Shakhmat, took on the appearance of a rough-hewn, gnarled walking-stick. Looking down at himself, he saw his own appearance had changed in a similar fashion. Although he could feel the warm, comforting presence of
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