Chapter 36: The Cold Shoulder

  It was near dusk when Chastity and Kobelt reached the banks of the Deep River. Mr. Pennybun was getting ready to ferry the last stragglers across when Chastity flagged him down. He grinned upon seeing the returning Paladin, but his expression faltered as he noticed her companion.

  The ride across the water was unusually quiet following some initial, perfunctory pleasantries. The few other halflings, clutching their full baskets, willfully stared at their feet or the opposite shore.

  The basket! Chastity realized, facepalming. I forgot the basket!

  She was once again indebted to the Underfoot family, having now misplaced their property. And obviously had no bounty of pine cones to boast of.

  Oh well. There are more important things in life than gathering pine cones…

  Pennybun secured the raft to the small dock and the passengers disembarked. Kobelt stared intently at the inert water wheel of the nearby mill until Chastity prompted him onward.

  Up ahead, the sounds of song and merriment were heard. In the middle of the village, a bonfire drove back the chill as the halflings celebrated their haul. Someone plucked a lively tune on a stringed instrument and a few pairs danced arm-in-arm around the blaze. Others clinked mugs of ale–one resource that never seemed in short supply in Goldenberry.

  Chastity grinned. She had not seen anything so festive since her arrival in this world. Despite the dwindled population and the harsh conditions of the everlasting winter, she could imagine just how much fun village life was during those fabled ‘happier times,’ remembering Charlie’s talk of various seasonal celebrations and so forth.

  Mrs. Underfoot was tending to a great quantity of pine cones strategically placed around the perimeter of the fire, apparently roasting them as part of the harvesting process. She looked up from her work as Chastity approached.

  “O! You’re back! We were getting worried about you. Thought you might ‘ave gotten turned around in the great big wood. Of course, I told me ‘usband and nephew that you could look after yourself, I did. And here you are.”

  Kobelt stepped out from behind Chastity, eager to warm himself by the fire. Mrs. Underfoot flinched.

  “Mrs. Underfoot, this is Kobelt,” Chastity said. “He’s run into a bit of trouble, and I’m hoping we can find him shelter until things can be made right.”

  The halfling matriarch fidgeted, unsure how to respond. Other revelers at the pine cone party also noticed the gnome. Whispers spread through the gathering, and there was a brief stutter in the music. The villagers shifted uncomfortably, eyes on Chastity and Kobelt.

  “Everyone, this is Kobelt. A new friend,” Chastity called out. She scanned the crowd for Charlie but did not see him. “He needs a safe place to stay.”

  There were more whispers; obviously something was amiss. Kobelt, however, seemed unfazed by the extremely awkward vibes, watching the crackling fire instead.

  “What is it?” Chastity asked those nearby. “What’s the matter? Why is everyone acting so strange?”

  The predictably opinionated Pricklebush spoke up, blowing out a cloud of pipesmoke and running a hand across his mustache.

  “It’s the gnome. Halflings and gnomes don’t mix. Everyfolk knows that.”

  Chastity was taken back.

  “Excuse me…?”

  Mrs. Underfoot looked away. Someone in the crowd pushed forward Mayor Roundhedge, whose face was flush with drink or embarrassment–or both.

  “Ahem. If I may, your Ladyship, a word in private?” he murmured.

  Ignoring the silly title, Chastity walked several paces to one side to confer privately with the mayor.

  Mayor Roundhedge removed his cap before speaking. His tone was apologetic.

  “Please understand, we are simple folk. Peaceful folk. Gnomes… I don’t know if they ‘ave gnomes in your far country, but they ‘ave a bad reputation,” the mayor said.

  Chastity arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for an explanation.

  “They’re said to be mischief-makers. I ‘ate to say it, but their kind ‘ave even been accused of stealing. Gnomes and halflings living together… it just isn’t done.”

  Pricklebush approached, inserting himself into the private discussion with a stage whisper.

  “And they eat bugs! You want our women and children to lose their lunch, watching some gnome gobbling down ‘andfuls of crickets and worms?”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Chastity sputtered. “This gnome, who has a name–Kobelt–has been held captive by a band of goblins for months, forced to do hard labor. He was beset upon, gravely injured when I found him. He needs our help!”

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  “Goblins!” Mr. Pricklebush scoffed. “In these parts? Unheard of.”

  “And yet it is the truth,” Chastity nearly spat in rebuttal.

  “This is troubling,” Mayor Roundhedge said. “Very troubling indeed. We’ve never been bothered by such folk here in our village. No danger this side of the river, not that I can remember… aside from the odd snapping turtle.”

  The mayor trailed off, but remembering the presence of the unwelcome guest in Goldenberry brought him back.

  “Your Reverence, you are right kind-hearted to offer to help the poor gnome. But listen, one of our ancestors, the very halfling who founded this village when our kind first crossed the wide meadows and settled these Riverlands generations ago–he was tricked by a gnome on the way, and a cruel trick it was. It’s a story that every River Folk knows well. I’m sure young master Cucumber could recite an infamous limerick about it. But that’s a tale for another time. The point is it’s not for nothing we ‘ave our suspicions.”

  “You know the saying. Gnomes–under ground, not under roofs,” recited Pricklebush.

  Chastity glanced at Kobelt, who was still warming himself. She dearly hoped he wasn’t overhearing any of this.

  The mayor continued, “We can share what food we ‘ave, little as it may be until we get some porridge going. But I’m telling you that no halfling is like to feel comfortable welcoming that kind into their ‘ome. I’m sorry…”

  Chastity was almost too surprised to be angry. Almost. She abruptly turned away from the mayor and approached the Underfoots once more.

  “Mrs. Underfoot, I hate to intrude any further on your kindness, but please–let Kobelt stay in your house. Just for one night, if anything. I’ll gladly give up the guest bed and sleep on the floor. I guarantee that nothing bad will happen. I’ll stay up all night on watch if it makes you more comfortable.”

  Mrs. Underfoot could not bring herself to meet the Paladin’s gaze. Neither could her husband. With tears at the corners of her eyes, Mrs. Underfoot mumbled a response.

  “I’m so sorry… Chastity. You of course are welcome, but gnomes and halflings? This just isn’t done in Goldenberry… it just isn’t done…”

  ?

  The party was over, the revelers and roasted pine cones stashed safely inside. Only Chastity and Kobelt remained in the village center, seated around the dying embers of the bonfire. The night was cold and dark. Chastity fought against the encroaching shivers.

  “Chastity?” a familiar voice called.

  Holding a small lamp, Charlie Cucumber emerged from a side street.

  “My aunt told me what happened,” he said, looking at the gnome.

  “You weren’t at the party…” Chastity said.

  “I was at first, but I’ve been working on something. A bit of a surprise. I can’t wait to show you when it’s ready. But that’s neither here nor there. You can’t stay out here in the cold!”

  “No one will let my friend Kobelt here inside. So I’m staying by his side–all night if I have to.”

  Charlie extended a hand toward the newcomer.

  “Kobelt? My name’s Charlie… Charlie Cucumber. I… I’ve never met a gnome before. But if you’re a friend of Chastity, you’re a friend of mine! If it were up to me… well, it’s my aunt’s house so her rules. Why not take shelter in the old Seer’s house?”

  Chastity thought of the musty, dust-coated abode beyond the edge of the village. And she recalled the nasty, venomous lute spider lurking in the hidden cellar and shuddered. What if there was a whole infestation?

  Spiders… why did it have to be spiders?

  As if sensing her thoughts, and recalling the bite scars on his shoulder, Charlie switched tack.

  “I have another idea. There’s plenty of empty houses in the village. As you know, many River Folk went north looking for work. But before you stop me, I know how particular you are about respecting folk’s personal property. Should have thought of it before, but there’s one house that’s got no owner–been empty for a year or more.”

  “No owner?”

  “Sad to say the previous occupant passed on. ‘Peripneumonia,’ or some such ten-copper word. A real danger for the older folks in this nasty wet cold. No spouse, no children left behind. No one to come buy the house neither. It’s just been sitting there vacant. The furnishings have all been removed, so you’d be sleeping on the floor. Not exactly cozy, but it beats being out here in the snow! Cozier than those ruins, I reckon.”

  Chastity mulled it over. It would be best to ask the mayor, but it seemed that all the villagers had shut and barred their doors and snuffed their lamps some time ago.

  Charlie pulled a large key out of his pocket. It glinted in the lamplight.

  “It just so happens I’ve got the key right here!”

  “H-how did you manage that?” Chastity sputtered.

  “Er, it must have fallen off the mayor’s keyring…” Charlie lied.

  “You know I can’t condone theft, Charlie,” Chastity said, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Nor breaking and entering.”

  But I can’t condone the prejudiced treatment of this gnome either!

  “Haven’t you heard, sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission?”

  Chastity shook her head.

  “I completely and fundamentally disagree with that saying.”

  “But there’s no harm in it. Goldenberry’s been losing villagers for years. Filling this empty home will only help bring back a bit of life.”

  Charlie looked up at the tall lady with feigned innocence, his eyes like dewy saucers.

  “Fine. I’ll return the key in the morning. Honest!”

  Chastity reluctantly agreed, and Charlie led the pair to a ramshackle structure at the corner of one street, near the easternmost edge of the village. Its features were difficult to distinguish in the darkness.

  A bit of a fixer-upper, thought Chastity as the halfling unlocked the door and ushered them in. Though she scarcely believed it possible, this roof seemed even lower than the Underfoots’. The Paladin had to constantly duck to keep from hitting her head.

  “Mister over-gnome,” Kobelt broke his silence, startling Charlie.

  “Er, are you talking to me?”

  “Kobelt wants to know if you have any tools.”

  “Tools? What sort of tools?” Charlie asked. He held the lamp aloft to illuminate the blue-gray face staring back at him.

  “Any tools will do. Many tools are best.”

  There was a gleam in Charlie’s eye.

  “I can certainly get some!”