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Chapter 15

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Resting on a branch and blending into the foliage of a nearby plum tree, Snix remained confused. He was sure the big warrior would pound the little gnome into a bloody mass. Instead he patted the gnome on the back—really hard—and told him, “That was a good one, gnome.”

Maybe the big warrior was not smart enough to make the connection that there was an implied insult—at least his experience in observing male humans suggested it was an insult. Or, maybe what the gnome said was funny. All four adventurers laughed.

Now they stood in the darkness near the center of the grove, their backs to each other, several paces apart, looking outward. The half-goblin thief sat motionless on a nearby tree’s bough, near its trunk. Foliage from branches laden with ripening plums hung down and obscured his outline. The blue jay familiar flitted from tree to tree, occasionally flapping up above the canopy to search for anyone approaching.

After ten minutes the elf whispered, “Petie sees someone coming. Three people.” She closed her eyes. “One of them is Skart.”

“Dusty,” the big warrior reminded her. “Think of him as Dusty, so if you gotta talk to him, you’ll call him that.”

“Right,” she said, nervously. “Thanks.”

Their plan was for the druid to do the talking. The elf would speak up to help smooth things over, if needed. The warrior was there as a show of muscle and intimidation. The gnome was to smile and look inoffensive, and put those they were dealing with at ease. And to watch their back.

“No problem,” Kalgore said, adjusting his shield’s strap across his forearm. “We don’t wanna tip our hand about knowing anything more about him.”

The druid attached two pouches to his belt. One contained worthless pebbles. The other held the rubies. He stepped the direction toward which Dusty approached. The elf moved to his left and the warrior to his right. The gnome took his place a half pace behind and to the elf’s left.

The thin, once again dour man approached. His clothes remained covered with dirt from travel, although it was apparent he’d washed what hair remained on his balding head and had trimmed his wispy mustache. The result left it a little uneven, adding a slight slant to his face. He came only armed with his matching pair of daggers. No spear.

Two men flanked Dusty. Average looking humans, middle-aged, each wearing a mail shirt, heavy boots and carrying a spear. They weren’t overly impressive, Snix thought. But a few spear thrusts could ruin any creature’s day. The real reason they were there was to facilitate Dusty’s escape, should things go wrong.

Through his observation, Snix knew the adventurers his master hired were there to trade for the wand in earnest. Dusty didn’t know that. The thin man also didn’t know that a half-goblin thief rested on a tree branch only ten yards away. The party successfully predicted the direction from which the thin man would approach.

Dusty and his men advanced through the rows of plum trees, stopping when they were ten feet from the druid. The thin man noted the elf’s and gnome’s presence with a nod, as well as the big warrior’s. A mild hint of recognition came over his face after his gaze momentarily rested on the big warrior. Then he started to look around.

“Let us proceed with the exchange,” the druid said, “such that each party might be on their way without avoidable delay.”

The thin man’s left eyebrow quirked upward. “You appear to be in a hurry?”

“Indeed,” the druid said. “We believe that someone overheard the arrangements for this meeting.”

That caused both of the thin man’s eyebrows to rise. “In that case then.” He held out his left hand and one of the spearmen pulled a wand from a long pocket sewn into the heavy trousers along his thigh. He handed it to the thin man.

“This,” the thin man said, “is the wand your boss desires. May I see the rubies?”

“A reasonable request,” the druid said. He selected one of the pouches from his belt and poured the rubies onto the palm of his hand.

“How do I know that they aren’t paste?”

“If it were our intention to cheat you with false gemstones, would that categorize us as foes?” The druid put the rubies back in the pouch and crossed his arms. “Utilize the wand’s attribute to determine if we are foes.”

The gnome was doing his job, looking around for danger. Despite the dim morning light, the eyes of the two men accompanying the wand-bearer were more interested in the elf than anything else.

Snix nearly hissed, giving himself away, when five men and a large gray war dog suddenly appeared in the plum tree orchard, fifteen yards behind the thin man and his two spear-wielding guards.