Swine Prince bonus chapter for February

#Gnome Man's Land#

Hal couldn't help but notice how absolutely black it was in the cave, and how very painful. I've never been in a cave that hurt quite this much before, he thought as something like awareness slowly returned to him. A moment later, memory followed it. He'd been outside a stone door preparing to enter when the assassins attacked with arrows. They'd hit him twice in the leg and he had fallen, though he was a little uncertain on the order. After that, things got kind of fuzzy. He suspected the confusion had something to do with the sharp pain above his right ear, but couldn't be sure.

I guess their luck did improve once we got out of the desert. Another thought occurred to him, Where is everybody? I'm sure that none of them were hit. Why aren't they helping me? The thought irritated him and he briefly felt a need to get even. But that seemed like an awful lot of effort. Then inspiration struck, I know how to show them. I'll just lay here in the dark and bleed to death, and boy won't they feel guilty! That decided, Hal settled back to get on with it.

He had just gotten himself really comfortable, or at least as comfortable as was possible with two arrows sticking in his leg and a huge lump on his head, when he heard the voices calling him. Well, it's about bloody time, he thought to himself. They should have got here hours ago. I think I'll just sit and ignore them for a while, and see how they like it.With that intention in mind, he carefully closed his eyes and started…shaking? No, that wasn't right at all, he had just been planning on sitting there and ignoring them. But no matter what he did the gentle shaking continued, getting more insistent by the moment. Oh, all right, he thought, I'll call them over an—

Hal woke up, opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it as light dug into them like a hungry sow with a full feed trough. He closed them again and shook his head in protest. This turned out to be a mistake as well, as the dream and reality agreed on one important fact, he'd banged his head but good. He tried opening his eyes once more. This time things came into bleary focus. Tasha was leaning over him, looking very worried. It almost looked like she…but no, that was ridiculous, Tasha never cried. Gnormin stood beyond her, just on the effective edge of Hal's vision. He kept handing things to Truffles who was doing something extremely painful to Hal's leg.

"Hey," croaked Hal. "What's going on? And could you stop that? It hurts. I-" Hal found himself drowned out.

Tasha made on odd little noise and took him in her arms. Gnormin grinned and started babbling happily. Truffles kept yelling at everyone to shut up and let him work. Hal was just about to try telling Truffles to stop again when the pain in his leg abruptly transformed itself into a pack of rodents and wandered off somewhere, leaving him in peace, or at least that was how it felt. Gnormin vanished about then too.

Best hallucination ever! he thought to himself.

"Ohhh, hey," said Hal to Truffles. "Do that again. Whatever it was, my leg feels much better now."

"I changed all the wounds in your leg into small animals and sent them away," said Truffles.

"You what?" Hal figured he must still be hallucinating.

"It's called Mugwump's Medicinal Muskrat," replied Truffles. "Mugwump was a leading sorceress of the Children Of The Midnight Swamp, an order of mages dedicated to thaumaturgical healing. The Muskrat is a spell she designed around the personification theory of wound closure. What it does is convince the wound in question that it's really a rather friendly little animal who has no business being embedded in someone's flesh. If it works, the critter wanders off quite happily, taking the injury with it."

"Really?" asked Hal.

"Really," replied Truffles.

"I don't suppose you could do the same for my head then, could you?" Hal gingerly rubbed the lump above his ear.

"What, change your head into a Hedgehog or something?" asked Truffles. "That shouldn't be a problem, it's most of the way there already." Tasha glared at Truffles and he quailed. "No I can't actually. The spell doesn't work on head wounds. Too likely to transform your whole body, I guess. Whatever the reason, there are very strict warnings not to try that in the copy I studied. Besides, this is my first time actually using the spell and I don't think your head would be a good place to experiment."

"I guess I can see that," said Hal.

"Good. I already worked on your head, by the way. All I was able to do was a plain old heal-all. It'll work, but it's slower and it doesn't dull the pain nearly as much. But you're alive, and that's the important thing."

"Does that mean I almost wasn't?" gulped Hal, "Alive, that is."

"Oh yes. We nearly lost you. Though which was worse, the poison on the arrows or falling down the stairs and cracking your head open on that stalagmite, I…" He trailed off. "Or was it a stalactite? I always get them confused. I'll have to ask Gnormin. I'm sure he'll know."

"Where did he go?" asked Hal.

"He's off checking the cave markers to see what kingdom we're in. He thinks we might have gotten too far south, in which case this'll be Gnaltic. They're at war with Gneela's people, and if that's where we are, we'll have to back out and try to enter again further north. I'll be right back." Truffles vanished from Hal's range of vision.

A moment later Tasha leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Oh Hal, I thought we'd lost you. I thought I'dlost you." Despite the fact that it was impossible, there were tears in her eyes. "I don't think I'd take that well at all. I've become awfully attached to you over the past couple of months." Then, like a switch flipping, her mouth set abruptly into a frown and the old, hard-as-granite Tasha reasserted herself. "And, if you ever pull something like this again I'll strangle you myself." She lowered his head to the ground and stood up. "I'm going to go have a look see myself. Don't move a muscle, you're not up to it yet." Turning on her heel, she followed the vanished Truffles.

Hal would normally have started testing the extent of his injuries at that point, just to see how bad things were. He didn't. He was too baffled to move. That scene really hadn't been like Tasha at all and it would bear some thinking on. But not just now. Now, he would rest. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Some unknown amount of time later the return of Gnormin and Truffles woke him, well really the return of Truffles. The wizard chattered away excitedly while a very subdued looking Gnormin listened. Tasha was nowhere to be seen.

"So, what's the news?" asked Hal. "Are we going to get chopped up and used for compost because we came in at the wrong place, or do we just get nasty looks from the locals?"

"Neither," sighed Gnormin. "I was completely off in my reckoning. We've strayed too far north instead of too far south." He dropped down to sit beside Hal.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," said Gnormin, with an odd sort of grimace, "that we're in for a very special welcome. Also, we'll have to travel south a good bit to get where we're going, but at least we'll be able to do it underground with professional guides. It seems we've strayed into Gnaskin, a Gnorski colony ruled by Gneela's Gnuncle Gnils."

"Gnuncle?" said Hal.

"A Gnuncle is a uniquely Gnomish relation," explained Gnormin, "a sort of honorary family member. Gnils was Gneela's father's Good Neighbor/uncle, or G. N. uncle. Gnuncle for short."

"You realize that doesn't make a jot of sense," said Hal.

"Don't worry about it," replied Gnormin. "What it means is that for the next week or two we will be treated to the height of Gnorski hospitality. They're going to bury us in smorgasbords, meatballs, and" a wince passed across Gnormin's face, "some really grotesque fish dishes, but you won't have to eat those."

"That sounds like a definite improvement over the last two weeks," said Hal. "But I still don't understand why we're going to get the blue blossom treatment."

It was Gnormin's turn to look confused. "Blue blossom?"

"In Arstoria the king and all the really important nobles have children who run in front of them on state occasions sprinkling blue bagansa petals for them to walk on."

"Why?" asked Gnormin.

"They've been doing it so long nobody remembers," said Hal. "Some say it's to bring luck. Other's claim it just testing for pit traps."

"Bagansa petals?" Truffles sounded baffled. "Aren't bagansas those ugly little clams that," he clutched at his throat and mimed choking himself.

"Yep," agreed Hal, "deadly poisonous little muscles. But the blue bagansa is a flower. It's named after the other kind because the petals are the exact shade of the faces of people who ate one of the clams. They even have the same expression, sort of."

"Oh," said Truffles. "That makes a kind of twisted sense I suppose." He glanced at Gnormin. "You never did answer Hal's question though. Why are we going to get such fancy treatment from the Gnorskis?"

Gnormin sighed. "It's a combination of things actually. First, we have a letter of credence from Gneela, and the king is very fond of his Gniece. Second, I have a couple of personal letters for his majesty. I was going to have them sent this way by Gnome postal service when we hit Gnarst. I wasn't expecting to come through here at all. I'm sure he'll be happy to get them. Third…" Gnormin blushed deeply and took a deep breath. "Third, Gnils is my father."

"What!?" Hal and Truffles asked in chorus. Tasha, who had just rejoined them, looked shocked as well.

"You see," said Gnormin, "it's like this: I had a bit of a fight with him about six years ago—right after my mother died—and I ran away from home. The only place I could go where I'd be sure of a friendly welcome and no badgering was uncle Gnort's. Nobody badgers Gnort, not even Gneela. He grumbled a bit of course and told me to get back to my own kingdom, but he couldn't turn me away on account of my being his sister's son. The best part about staying with Gnort was that I could just pretend I was normal for a while because that's how Gnort treats everyone."

"You mean," said Tasha, "that you're the run-away heir to your kingdom's throne and Gneela didn't send you straight back home. I can't believe that."

"It's nothing so dramatic as all that." Gnormin shook his head. "I'm second in line, after my older brother, Gnolly, and he'll probably live longer than I do. I won't ever actually be king." He blushed again. "But my son will…if I ever have one, that is. There was a mining accident…. Gnolly won't be having children, so my kids are going to inherit the crown. I'm basically the official royal stud stallion."

"But, what about all that stuff about becoming a Gnight?" asked Hal. "I don't how things work here, but even in Arstoria, where you can get a royal prince free with any purchase, all I'd have to do if I wanted to be knighted is ask. Surely you must be pretty much guaranteed a gnighthood as the King's son?"

"That's exactly why I don't want it!" Gnormin snarled. "If my father gnighted me, or even if Gneela did it, it'd be worthless, empty. That's the reason I came with you and part of the reason I left here. I don't want to be gnighted because of who my father is or, for that matter, who my son will be. I want to be gnighted because I've earned the distinction, and preferably by someone who hasn't the slightest idea who I'm related to. That way, it'll be mine."

Hall nodded. "I can see that. You said that was part of the reason you left. What's the rest of it?"

"My wife. Or rather, my wife to be. My father picked out a girl, set the date, arranged all the details, and then he told me." Gnormin's face darkened briefly. He pushed himself to his feet. "I suppose there's no sense putting it off, unless of course Hal isn't well enough to be moved yet?" He looked hopeful, but not very.

Truffles shook his head. "I'm afraid you're stuck. Hal's just fine. In fact, getting him back on his feet will probably do him good." He looked up the stairs that led to the outside world and grimaced. "Besides, I'd rather not be here if the Denturati figure out how to get the door open."

Gnormin nodded. "That's that then. Let's go tell the king his grandchild making machine is back in the neighborhood." He sighed. "I'm not sure yet how I'll convince him to let me out of the neighborhood, but I'll mine that vein when we come to it."

The party packed up their bags and descended into the Gnome tunnels led by a grim but resigned Gnormin. They hadn't gone far when they were challenged.

"Halt," a voice called from an alcove high on one smooth stone wall. "Who goes there?"

"Gnormin Snowmane, Prince Secundus of the house of Gnorse, Guardian of the Gnorth, Sword of Gnorse, Baron Gnewgate, blah, blah, blah, and companions. Who challenges?"

"Gnorm, is that really you?" The rough and rowdy voice was full of incredulous welcome.

"Of course it's really me! Who else would be stupid enough to make that claim? What with father's plans and all? Now, get yer arse down here, Gnick, and meet my friends."

A gnome of about Gnormin's own age dropped from the alcove. He was big for a gnome, over three feet, and had bright cinnabar-red hair. When he hit the floor of the tunnel he threw his arms around Gnormin with a whoop before lifting him off the ground and spinning him around. When he finally set him down again they were both laughing like maniacs.

Gnormin patted his friend on the shoulder. "Truffles, Tasha, Hal, this is Lord Gnickolas Gniklson, heir to the Duchy of Gniklebee. He's also one hell of a nasty surprise to find on the wrong side of a game of ogre ball."

Hal whistled. He'd seen ogre ball played once. Though he wasn't sure "played" was quite the right word. It didn't really convey the violence of the sport. "Committed," as in, "they committed reckless endangerment,' might be better way of putting it. Ogre ball was quite a bit like Arstorian football only without all the rules and padding and worrying about strategy. In fact it bore a remarkable resemblance to a really ugly tavern brawl, but with a referee and a point system.

Gnormin continued the introductions, "Gnick, I would like you to meet Journeyman Sorcerer Truffles of the order of the Wand and Rod. Prince Haladain Halalfson, Prince protector of the Principality of the Snout of the Royal Boar, Sub-Commander of his Majesty's pig reserves and protector of the lower one third of the upper quarter of the extreme western march of the south reach of the Kingdom of Arstoria, now a gentleman adventurer. And finally, Tarashana ni Taskarna, late of the Zarani guild of cut-purses, sneak-thieves, and rogues. But all that's mouthful and a half so, in the interests of brevity and simplicity, you can call them Truffles, Hal, and Tasha, and they'll call you Gnick. Now, you'd better fill me in on how things stand here. Is father still chewing his beard over my running off?"

"No," said Gnick. "He stopped that right after he issued a decree that any Gnorski who saw you was to arrest you, put you in a box, nail the lid shut, and ship you back here, C.O.D. for a large reward and no questions asked. I guess that made him feel like he was doing something about the problem."

Gnormin blinked. "How serious was he about the edict?"

"Let me put it this way," Gnick gave him a wicked grin, if it was any other Gnorski at this post, you'd be asking that question through an inch of packing material. There's a full purse hanging in the guardhouse at the palace that says, 'Postage for Gnormin' on it. So, given that parcel-post is mighty undignified way to return home, you might want to wait here for me to get off shift so I can try to smuggle you in."

Gnormin looked puzzled. "Speaking of which, what on earth is the son of a state minister doing on extreme perimeter duty?"

"Oh, that." It was Gnick's turn to blush. "It seems the improper and illegal actions of a certain rebellious young prince started a whole rash of people not getting married. I'm on perimeter duty until I reconsider. Dad said it was bad enough you running out on Gneena without my rubbing salt in her wounds."

"I am sorry about that." Gnormin looked at his feet, his expression genuinely contrite. "If I'm going to marry anyone, it'll be your sister. In fact, if the king and your father hadn't done all that arranging of seating and ordering of flowers and suchlike without consulting me, I probably would have asked her on my own. It's just the principal of the thing that rankles. I hope she doesn't hate me."

"Farthest thing from it," said Gnick. "Once she got over the initial shock and stopped breaking things she calmed right down. She's written you a dozen times since then to tell you she understood, but Father wouldn't let her mail any of the letters. You really did tie a knot in his tail. But I expect it'll all work itself out now you're home."

Gnormin looked grim and Gnick blanched. "You are planning on staying aren't you?"

Gnormin shook his head and touched his belt on the right side. "You don't see any gnight's blade here, do you? And I can't stay until I've earned one, you know that."

"Yes," Gnick sighed, "I do. I can even reluctantly support the decision, but I would dearly love to have you home again for good. Things have been mighty dreary since you slipped off and left me here to deal with the parents." He shook his head, then smiled slyly. "I suppose this means that after I go to all the trouble of sneaking you in I'm going to have to sneak you back out again, doesn't it? At least things won't be getting dull."

"No chance of that Gnick, no chance at all," said Gnormin. "How are you planning on getting us inside? If you don't mind my asking."

"Well, for starters, I'll hide you in a side cave a bit further in, the one the guard uses for storing recon equipment. Then when my relief comes on, I'll pick you up. We should be able to get as far as the outer caves without anyone recognizing you. From there, we can sneak around to the grungy little flat where dad has me parked until: 'you're ready to come home and do your duty as heir to Gniklebe you can rot in a rat-trap beyond the edge of the Deep.'" Gnick's smile went a bit wry. "He always did have a way with words. At my flat we'll get you some different clothes. From there, we wing it."

A look of hope flashed across Gnormin's features. "Any chance I can just duck through the city and out the other side without ever laying eyes on my father?"

"You've got to be kidding, Gnorm. If you were alone, and if we were extremely lucky, we might be able to pull that off. But in case you haven't noticed, your friends are a bit on the tall side to pass as Gnomes."

Truffles put a hand out. "What if we looked like Gnomes? I don't think that would be too difficult. Uncomfortable perhaps, but…"

Both gnomes started shaking their heads.

"No chance," said Gnormin. "In order to get from here to the tunnels we want, we'll have to cross through the bowl of the Deep. About four thousand years ago the ruler of Gnorski got tired of having people sneak by without paying the proper tolls. In order to halt that and a number of other practices that disturbed him, he hired a very powerful mage to cast enchantments on all the gates of the Deep—magic detectors. Anyone or anything who tried to sneak an enchantment past the gates would set off nine kinds of alarms and bring the Deeping Guard down so fast it'd make your head spin."

Truffles frowned. "We're going to have to go back out and around then. Between Shagreen and my equipment we'll set those alarms off anyway."

"Nothing of the sort," said Gnick. "As long as you declare all your stuff with customs you should get through fine."

"Yeah," said Gnormin, "We won't have any trouble getting into the Deep openly, and you won't have any trouble getting out again. It's what happens to me that's an open question." He kicked a small stone so that it skittered away down the passage. "But that's just buying trouble in advance. Why don't we see if we can even make it to Gnick's place before we start making plans for the long haul."

"That seems reasonable," said Truffles. "How long will we be waiting?"

"About five and a half hours," answered Gnick. "That's when I get off. Why do you ask?"

Truffles grimaced. "I have a promise to keep. If you think we'll be safe and undisturbed for that time, I should get to it."

"Sure," said Gnick. "No one even looks in the cave I'm thinking of except when the guard is getting ready to send out an extended recon patrol. Since we're not at war or anything it'll probably be months before anyone even remembers the place exists. If you don't mind my asking, what sort of promise?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Wouldn't have promised a lady you'd be keeping in touch would you?"

Truffles smiled ruefully. "No. Actually, I promised a dead friend of mine I'd make it easier for him to get out on the town once in a while." He raised his own eyebrows, and his hand went to the bag containing Danny's skull. "Want me to introduce you?"

"Truth?" Gnick asked Gnormin.

"Truth," said Gnormin.

Gnick's face went a little paler than normal and without another word he led them down the hall and unlocked the door to a good sized cave packed so full of blankets and lanterns and other gear that only a little floor space remained. By the time he left, Truffles had already begun setting out a variety of arcane items. From the look on his face it was pretty clear that Gnick was glad he wouldn't have to watch.