The Legacy of Mount Drood

Chapter 6

A gnome-like figure scuttled across the room and hopped up on a stool behind a worn, dirty counter as Jep entered. Two squinting eyes watched suspiciously as he crossed from the door, offering a pleasant smile and greeting.

"What business have you with the council?" The voice was raspy and filled with belligerence.

"I seek anyone who might know the whereabouts of a maid named, Gwendolise Bogendancer.

A pair of matted eyebrows shot up and the squint expanded to a wide-eyed stare. "Bogendancer! Do you seek a relative of the Queen of Graf?" The stool rocked precariously as the misshapen little man wriggled about.

"Relative in name only, friend. I don't believe they have seen one another since childhood. Do you know her?"

"And why, pray tell, should I give you any information, you, a total stranger." The man scolded.

"I am Jep... Waterford, from a small village like your own, and I seek this maiden for personal reasons. She has information about my family that I yearn to know." He turned an innocent face to his inquisitor, the lie rolling easily off his tongue.

"And just what might that info—"

"LYMAN! Get your filthy dwarf body off my stool and away from my counter!" The harsh, commanding bark startled both men; Jep jerking around defensively and the dwarf called Lyman, tumbling to the floor in a tangle of stool legs and papers.

"Every time I go out I return to find you trying to impersonate my authority!" The newcomer swept across the room and around the counter, his well-worn coat flapping against a pair of dull black boots. "I am the person in charge here." His voice remained strong but controlled, "Any business you have here you have with me, not this sniveling excuse for an assistant." He directed a kick toward his scrambling aide.

"My apologies sir, I had no way—"

"A pox on your apologies." The man righted the stool, gathered the spilled papers and seated himself with authority. "What is your business?"

"I seek a maiden called Gwendolise Bogendancer. Word came by me that she was once in this village."

The man's eyes narrowed and he pulled at his moustache pensively. "Why would you be seeking this person?"

"As I already told your assistant," Jep watched the two men snarl at one another, "she has information important to me. "'Tis a simple question sir, do you know her whereabouts?"

The man began a protest, but the blare of a solitary horn cut him off. Lyman scurried to the door and disappeared outside, returning a moment later with fear and concern molding his features. "Soldiers come. Our lookout says they wear the emblem of Count Bragen de Consiflore!"

"They seek me, sir." Jep blurted, "Please, if you have information, tell me now and I will go."

The man considered Jep for a moment, signaling to his aide to close the door. "We have no love here for Consiflore. He is a beast. If they find you here we will all suffer." The man grasped Jep's arm and bore into him with cold eyes. "If you are lying and you bring trouble to this village, young friend, you will be very sorry.

There is a small shack on the outskirts to the west; it belongs to an old woman named Prize. She once had a young maiden staying with her; perhaps it was this Gwendolise Bogendancer. Quickly, go out the back and stay close to the buildings."

Jep thanked both the men and ran to the back of the council room, pushing out the door into a greasy, garbage-strewn alley. Between the broken slats of a tall wooden fence, he could see the hill above Dyst and the small band of riders guiding their horses down the steep slope. Following the councilman's advice, he stuck close to the dingy shacks and made his way carefully toward the western outskirts of the town.